From Dust to Ashes
by JohnMunchIsMyJew
Summary: John Munch had all but given up hope on romance, but what happens when the sultry Captain's daughter, Samantha, becomes his new partner? Can he see through her past, and help her work through her demons? Can she in turn, teach him how to love? A bit of O/E in there as well. Rated M for rape, violence, and good ol' fashioned smut
1. Preface: It All Started With A Dance

**FROM DUST TO ASHES**

**PREFACE: IT ALL STARTED WITH A DANCE**

Detective John Munch loosened his tie for what had to be the millionth time that night. It was a wonder it hadn't untied completely and fell off. He hated these sorts of things. It was state of New York's 30th annual celebration where certain members of different precincts were awarded and recognized for outstanding achievements, and it also welcomed new detectives to their squad and partners. Being one of the longest running, and sergeant of the SVU squad, it was his 'duty to come'(as Cragen had said). Not to mention they'll be unveiling his new partner since Jefferies decided to leave. He sighed as he picked up his second glass of champagne for the night, all the while scanning the room for potential dance partners. Not that he would be that lucky. He hadn't held a woman close in his arms since he and Billie Lou split. "_You still believe in true love, and the pain of never having found it, is unbearable." _ The physiatrist's words still ran through his head when he was lonely. He sneered at the memory and downed his drink in a long gulp. Where the hell was his captain? If he had to be here, then Don better damn well be, too.

The detective set down his empty glass and rose from the bar in search to find a member of his unit. It wasn't long until he came across a hassled looking Elliot.

"Would you believe that woman has called the baby sitter five times tonight?" Elliot said, motioning to Kathy on her cell phone in a semi-empty corner of the busy room. John gave a sympathetic chuckle.

"That's why I never had kids my friend! Only thing they're good for is ending the sex life!" Elliot rolled his eyes.

"John, I have four children, does it sound like I have no sex life?" Elliot smiled smugly before scanning the crowd for his wife once more. Damn woman had a habit of disappearing.

"Say what you want, but you know as well as I do, when they get a little bit older, BAM, good bye midnight romance. It's not too late for adoption, ya know?" John teased. Elliot had went still and tense, his eyes locked onto the center of the room. "Hey, I was just kiddin' Stabler?" Elliot ignored him, and John finally followed his line of sight.

In the center of the room, Don Cragen had finally arrived. And he wasn't alone. On his arm, was the most beautiful woman he had ever saw. Her hair was long, chocolate ringlets. Her eyes were a bright, piercing blue. She wore an ankle long black dress, that hugged her curves and legs in the most tantalizing way. The arms of the dress was a fine lace, extending to her neckline, which dipped down just enough to get a peek of what rested beneath. Her smile lit up the room, and the low light seemed to dance off her caramel skin. The aging detective found it hard to breathe, as did the rest of the testosterone filled occupants in the room. The woman looked like she was in her twenties, but she had the curves and body of an experienced woman.

It wasn't long before the hushed room had quickly began chattering, whether it be jealous wives reprimanding their husbands, or petty gossip about the beautiful woman whose smile was stealing the spot light. "Damn, who is she?" Elliot asked, eyes glued to the mysterious woman.

"I've never seen her before. Think she's a friend of the captain's?"

"I don't know, if she is, then the captain is one lucky bastard," Elliot replied. John rolled his eyes and gave the younger detective a small push.

"Down killer, you're married, remember?" John reminded him. Elliot frowned and nodded.

"Yeah, so? Look, but don't touch!" Again, the older detective couldn't hold off the urge to roll his eyes.

"Hey, did you guys see the girl Cragen's with?" Olivia asked, taking a spot in between the two men, which of whom gave her sarcastic looks. "Ok, I'll take that as a yes. You'll never guess who she is!" Liv smiled at the boy's mutual looks of interest. Who said boys didn't like to gossip?

"Well? Who is she?" asked an impatient Elliot.

"The captain's daughter, Samantha." Liv said, nodding at the men's shocked faces.

"Don has a daughter?" Elliot asked, brow furrowed in confusion.

"I thought he and his late wife didn't have any children?" John asked, equally confused as his younger friend.

"I guess they had to have. Regardless, she's very nice." Olivia said. She had honestly thought a woman of that level of beauty would be stuck up, but the woman was anything but.

"You met her?" Elliot asked. Liv rolled her eyes.

"Obviously, El. Looks like you'll be meeting her, too," she nodded at the captain and his daughter slowly making their way towards the group. It was hard not to notice how her hips seemed to sway effortlessly with every step she took.

"Hey there, Stabler, Munch, I don't believe you've met my daughter?" Cragen smiled proudly at his daughter as she extended her hand to Elliot.

"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Stabler, I'm Sam," her voice was like liquid chocolate and honey. It was sultry, with a twinge of southern. Elliot seemed to swoon a moment before he smiled and shook the woman's hand.

"Please, call me Elliot," he replied. Olivia fought the urge to roll her eyes. The man was ridiculous sometimes.

"Ok then, Elliot," Samantha smiled, but quickly frowned when she laid eyes upon a glaring blonde.

"Hey El," Kathy said, grabbing her husband's hand, "the kids are fine. Who's your friend?" It was odd how much disgust there was in the word, 'friend'.

"Kath, this is Samantha, the captain's daughter. Sam this is my wife, Kathy," Elliot murmured. He hated the way his wife acted sometimes. Sam extended her hand to the woman, but quickly drawled it back in when she saw the woman made no effort to take it.

"El, let's dance, ok?" Kathy said, fluttering eyes at her husband. Elliot sighed and excused himself from the group. Sam watched Kathy with distaste.

"Jesus, is she always like that?" she asked. Olivia laughed and patted her shoulder.

"Worse. Believe me. I don't mean to be rude, but I really have to be going. I have court in the morning around seven. Maybe we can go for drinks sometime?" Olivia asked, a hand on the woman's arm. Sam smiled brightly and eagerly nodded her head.

"I'd love to, seeing how we'll be seeing more of each other," She said.

"I'm looking forward to it! See you tomorrow," with that, Olivia made her exit, genuinely glad to have made a new friend. Lord knew she could always use another one of those. Especially, one of the female variety.

Sam had finally turned her attention back to the last person she had yet to meet. She gave him a smile as he extended his hand. "John Munch, this is Sam, Sam, meet John Munch," Cragen introduced. Sam gave her father a quick look.

"So, this is the detective I've heard so much about?" she gave the man a coy smile. John raised an eyebrow.

"And, what pray tell madam, would that be?" he inquired, reluctantly releasing his hand.

"Oh, you know. Just stuff," she replied, same coy smile on her face.

Damn, he liked this woman already.

"Well, it seems I'm wanted on stage to prepare my speech," the captain sighed, "John, take care of my girl, and for the love of God, do NOT let her consume anything with vodka in it," he smiled at his daughter's laughter and gave her a quick peck on the cheek before hastily making his way to the bottom of the stage.

John felt that old twinge of anxiousness when she turned her full attention back to him. It had been a while since he'd been in the presence of a beautiful woman. Beautiful women liked to dance, right? Maybe he should ask her to dance. Ah hell with it, what's the worst that could happen?

"Care to dance?" he asked, thankful for the liquid courage he had consumed. She seemed to blush slightly, but smiled.

"Sure," she said as John took her by the arm. He couldn't help but smile smugly at the look on Elliot's face from across the room. He placed a hand high on her hip, and gently took her hand in his, while she placed an arm around his neck, and held onto his hand. He remained a respectful distance away, though he longed to pull her closer.

"So, how did Don rope you into being his date?" he asked. He was delighted to hear a chuckle from the woman in his arms.

"I had to come anyway, so why not come with dear old dad?" she said. John raised his eyebrows.

"You mean, you're being inaugurated as a detective?" he asked, finally putting it together.

"Yep, following in dad's footsteps," she answered.

"But, you're so young? How did you become a detective so fast?" he asked. Sam gave him a puzzled look.

"Young? How young do you think I am?" she asked. 'Uh-oh. Good going John.' He thought

"You look like you are barely thirty?" he answered honestly, waiting for the inevitable face slap. Instead he got giggles.

"Oh, bless you. I'm defiantly not 'barely' thirty, Haven't been for a while now," she laughed even harder at his confused face.

"What do you mean, you're not 'barely' thirty? You could pass for someone in their late twenties?" he smiled now, watching her blush.

"Now you're just teasing me, detective. Flattery will get you nowhere," she smiled. On the contrary, he wasn't joking at all, she didn't look too far past thirty. If she was truly going to be a detective, her partner better be a woman. There was no way in hell a man could focus on his job with her around. It be damn near impossible to get anything done.

Too soon, it felt like for John, Cragen began his speech onstage and he had to reluctantly let go of his dance partner. "Welcome everyone. I'm Captain Donald Cragen with the Manhattan SVU," John drowned out the speech, and turned to the woman beside him.

"You never told me what bracket you were in, and what city?" he whispered. She gave the older man the same coy smile she had given him earlier. She leaned up and whispered in his ear, her breath making him shiver, "Manhattan SVU."

"And I'd like to welcome Detective John Munch's new partner, and my daughter, Samantha Cragen to the squad!" Cragen said, starting the round of applause. John stood, in shock, his eyes locked with his new partner.

'Shit.'

**Well there we go! It's been a little while since I've written anything, so I'm a little rusty. I want some criticism, so dish it out! The quote that I used(you still believe in true love….etc) was from the Episode "Slaves" Season 1: Episode 22. **

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything, except for my Character, Sam. Everything else is the amazing Dick Wolf's. **


	2. Mutual Homicide

**Mutual Homicide**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything associated with L&O:SVU, that honor belongs to Dick Wolf. **

The man was trying to kill her. Sam had only been his partner for four months, but she had already taken to the urge to smack him upside the head. Would it kill him to be just a little more organized? It had taken her almost half an hour to find the file she was looking for, which, much to her disdain, had been shoved into the bottom drawer of his desk. She smoothed out the file and sighed.

She hated children cases. Not that she didn't hate most of the cases that came her way. She wasn't new to the rape scene, but it was always hard not to shoot the suspects when they finally found them. John had reprimanded her a few times when she got too rough.

This case in particular was pretty routine(Or, had at least started that way). A concerned school nurse had called the detectives because she found bruises on a seven year old girl's thighs. A full examination at the hospital had revealed a torn hymen. She and John had already ruled out the foster parents, they were now looking at the girl's neighbor who babysat her when the foster parents when out. John was currently at the DA's office, getting a warrant to search the place.

Sam let out a small growl as she opened the file she had so long trying to find. Empty. She was going to kill her partner.

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She was trying to kill him. She made even the most modest of clothes look sinful. Like today for example, she was wearing tight black jeans, ankle boots with a four inch heels, and a form fitting, long sleeved, camo thermal shirt. Her hair was thrown up into a messy mass of curls in a ponytail, with a hunter-green bandana. On any other woman, it would look ordinary. But on Sam, it was anything but. The jeans hugged her legs and butt perfectly, without being too obnoxious and the shirt clung to her curves, and dipped slightly low enough to get an eye full if she bent over. The damn woman was driving him crazy. He was going through quiet a dry spell, and he was tired of feeling like a lustful teenager.

He pulled in front of the precinct and let out a quiet sigh and picked up his phone. "Got the warrant, you going to sit in the office all day, or come and do some real work?" he texted, knowing he'd get a rise out of his partner. Sure enough, two minutes later, his partner got in the car giving him a glare.

"You could have just said you were here. And do you have to be so damned disorganized, Munch? It took me half an hour to find a file, and then the papers weren't even in it!" she seethed, giving him a light punch in the arm.

"Jeez, take a breath, woman. You're starting to sound like my ex-wife!" he teased. Sam rolled her eyes.

"And which one would that be?" she asked. John snorted.

"Take your p**i**ck, any of them would do," he delighted in her short chuckle.

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"You alright?" John asked his partner. She was sitting on the edge of the roof smoking, as she often did when things were on her mind. The case had gone downhill after they started their search on the suspect's house. They had come to find out that the suspect, Gregory Marshall, had also molested thirteen other kids besides their victim. He had them all on tape, creating his own perverted series. The various children ran anywhere from ages six to fourteen, and were raped, sodomized, and molested. The two detectives had spent all afternoon watching these said tapes, while Liv and El looked for the bastard. Needless to say, the two of them were on edge.

"I'd be lying if I said yes, but I'll be alright," she gave the elder detective a tiny smile and went back to looking at the city below. He hated when she sat on the wall like that. One tiny mistake and he'd have to scrape his new partner off the sidewalk below.

"It's never easy having to watch something like that. Especially when children are involved," he said, leaning against the wall next to her, careful not to look over the edge. He hated heights

"It never gets easier, does it?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

"No," he answered honestly, "It doesn't. But you learn how to handle it in time," he said. He watched as she crushed out her cigarette and tossed it over the side. She appeared deep in thought, her brow furrowing and mouth tight. He gave her a playful push and laughed when she let out a tiny squeal.

"How many times do I have to tell you not to sit on the edge like that?" He laughed, dodging her attempts to punch him.

"Are you crazy? You could have killed me!" she yelled, hands on her hips. Her southern accent always came out full force when she was mad, or sleepy.

"What was that? I don't speak hillbilly!" he barely missed her fist that time. He caught her arm and twisted it behind her, holding her in place. That was, until her other elbow got him in the gut. He released her immediately and bent over, attempting to hold his guts in place. That woman had one hell of an arm.

"Oh, what's wrong Munchies?" she asked when he slowly straightened, "Can't handle it rough?" she leaned in closer and raised an eyebrow and smiled that same coy smile she knew enticed him. He leaned closer and gave her his signature look over his glasses.

"Oh, I assure you I could handle it. But could you?" With that, he delighted in his partner's pretty blush and began walking to the stairwell. "Going to stay out here all night?" he tossed over his shoulder. He smiled at her indignant sigh. He had come to enjoy this little game of cat and mouse they seemed to have established. Yet, it was still unclear whom was truly the cat, and whom was the mouse.

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Liv eyed her new friend and the elder detective as they entered through the stairwell, laughing and pushing each other. She knew something was there between them, unspoken. It was an almost kid-like, innocent, flirtation. Liv didn't think anyone else noticed, but she sure did. The way John's eyes would follow her hips when she walked, the way his face lit up when she clocked in in the mornings. The way Sam's nose would crinkle when John made her laugh, or the way she would secretly look up at him when she thought he wasn't paying attention. It was cute.

"You get the bastard?" Sam asked, looking hopeful.

"Yeah, caught him trying to skip town on the 11 o'clock train," Elliot replied, pouring himself and Liv a hot cup of coffee, "He's all yours," he said. Sam and John shared a quick look and a nod before making their way to interrogation room 2. The rest of the team and the captain took their spots outside the double sided window.

The partners took a moment to inspect their suspect. He seemed to be in his fifties. He had shoulder length, greasy, grey hair. He was awfully chubby, and sweaty. He almost appeared slimy. He had wide, nervous eyes that darted between the two, but quickly settled on the beautiful brunette. John took a seat in front of the perp, while Sam opted for standing against the wall behind him.

"Mr. Marshall, I'll cut straight to the chase," John started, pulling various screen shots from the sick son of a bitch's 'Home Video' collection out of a file, and tossing them on the table in front of him. Sam sneered as the man licked his lips like an animal, running his fingers over the photos. There had to be a special level of hell for this man. "Do you have anything to say Mr. Marshall?"

"Uh.." he seemed to be lost in the photographs. John snapped his fingers in front of the perp's face. "I didn't do it," his voice sounded like a gurgle. Sam let out a small laugh.

"That's your face, is it not?" she said, moving from her spot against the wall to point at him in the photograph.

"Well yeah, but I didn't rape nobody," he said, his greedy eyes darting from her breasts to her face.

"Why, Mr. Marshall, who said anything about rape?" John asked.

"Well..I..uh.." he babbled stupidly. Sam had had enough. She swiftly took a seat atop the table beside the foul man.

"All right, dumb ass. Here's the deal. We have you on the tapes we confiscated at your apartment , raping and molesting all fourteen children. Now, it is going to be very easy to get a court order for a DNA sample. So, you can either confess now, and maybe, MAYBE, it will help you in your defense, or you can wack off into a cup, go through a line up, and go to jail that way. Either way you're going down," she said, giving him a stern glare. The man began to crumble, tears leaving dirt tracks down his unshaven face. Sam slid off her perch on the table and took a place beside her partner.

"Why'd you do it, Greg?" John asked, voice void of sympathy. He and Sam waited patiently for the grotesque man to calm down.

"I don't know why I did it. I just get these…urges. I see these little kids, and they're just so perfect. Like, they're perfect. They've just got this sleek skin, rosy cheeks, fragile little bodies…I just can't help myself! I see them, and just have to touch em. It's like they want me to. The way they smile at me, and want me to play. It's like they're teasing," he finished, going into another snot-filled sob fest. Sam clutched the table hard, her knuckles turning white. "I-I didn't mean to hurt no body. Honest," the man babbled as the detectives slowly rose. They couldn't get out of there quick enough.

"I think I need a shower," Sam said to no one in particular after she had shut the door. The group seemed to simultaneously nod. Donald came over and squeezed his daughter's shoulder.

"Ya did good sweety, you too, John," he said. The two nodded at the praise. "Ok, let's wrap this case up. Stabler, Benson, gather up all the victims for Alex and take down their testimonies. Munch, Cragen, paperwork duty. Everyone nodded and began moving to do their appointed tasks.

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"What the hell is wrong with the human race?" Sam all but yelled. She and John had grabbed their files and escaped to the roof to do their paperwork, though it was really just so Sam could smoke off her aggravation.

"I stopped asking that a long time ago," John replied, slightly fascinated in her pacing and puffing. She was quite cute when she was angry, the way her face flushed and accent came out.

"I mean seriously! How can you get off raping children? I will never understand it, John," she suddenly seemed to deflate, setting(to John's distain) on the edge of the wall. She stubbed out her cigarette and threw it over the side.

"You never will. Stop wondering, it'll drive you crazy," he said.

"Yeah, you're right. So, you got any plans? It's Friday night, and not too late," she asked, beginning on her paperwork. John gave out a snort.

"Do I ever have plans?" he asked, albeit a bit sadly. He hadn't had plans on a Friday night in years.

"What? A party animal like you doesn't have any plans on a Friday night?" she said sarcastically shocked. John rolled his eyes.

"I'm the party animal? Little miss tattoos," he pointed to her wrists and foot with his pen.

"What, because I have tattoos, I have to be a party animal?" she asked.

"Come on, you never partied back in the day?" he asked, looking over his glasses. She pouted and looked back down at her paperwork.

"Alright, fine. I partied back in the day," she admitted.

"You know, I heard tattoos are the first step in transitioning to S&M," he teased, smiling.

"Oh, how do you figure that?" she asked, sarcastically.

"Why else would you get a tattoo on your foot? I heard that is one of the most painful places to get a tattoo," he said. Sam began to laugh.

"Who the hell told you that? Believe me, ribs hurt much worse," she stopped and slapped a hand over her mouth. John's eyes widened.

"What? You have a tattoo on your ribs too?" he asked, smiling now.

"Both actually," she blushed at his shocked impression.

"Damn, woman! How many do you have?" he asked, trying to imagine what the ones on her sides looked like.

"Umm," she began counting on her fingers, "I think eleven… depending on if you want to count my ribs as one tattoo or two, though I count it as two. She giggled at her partner's opened mouth.

"You have eleven tattoos? Holy shit! Where are they?" he asked, looking her body up and down. Sam laughed harder and turned her head, bending her ear forward. Right behind her ear was a black treble cleft music note. John stared at it, in awe.

"That's one, "she said. She pushed up her sleeves and allowed him to get a better look at her wrists. The left had 'Hope' written in a cursive black font, while the right had 'Faith' written in the same font. He could barely make out a thin line behind the tattoos. They looked like scars. He thought about asking, but thought better of it. "That's three."

She then took off her right boot and placed her foot on the wall in front of her, showing him the tribal looking flower and line design on the right side of her foot. "That's four," she said, putting her boot back on. "I also have a black dragon that wraps around my right thigh, making five" John's breath caught. This woman was killing him. "And I have this," she raised her shirt to just under her breasts, and John had to do everything in his power not to let out a groan. There was a heart around her belly button, the tip ending just under her pants line. From each side of the heart, wings billowed out and curved around her hips, going up her ribs. The tip of the wings ended in a point, just below each breast. Did he mention the woman had her belly button pierced? A silver star hung on top, while dangly silver pieces hung below, ending with the tip end of her heart tattoo. He couldn't help but to stare. "And I count that as two tattoos, so that makes seven.

She then turned, shirt still raised, and showed him her lower back. There was a small tramp stamp. It was a very delicate black cross, with black Celtic knots on either side. It was a very elaborate, eloquent design. "That's eight," she said, lowering her shirt and turning back to face him. Then I have two names on my right shoulder, written downward, right beside each other, in Hebrew," that makes ten," she finished. She smiled smugly at the man staring at her in fascination.

"What about the eleventh one?" he asked. He was shocked to see her blush.

"Uh, well, I have to keep some sort of mystery, don't I?" she giggled at John's dropped mouth.

"Fair enough. Who's names are on your shoulder?" he asked, but immediately wish he didn't. Her face fell and she looked down.

"Cassandra and David. They were my sister and brother," she said, barely above a whisper.

"Were?" he asked, just as quietly.

"They passed away a long time ago," she said, not meeting his eyes.

"I'm sorry…how?" he asked.

"It's a long story, and it's getting pretty cold outside. What ya say we call it a night?" she asked, finally meeting his eyes. She seemed to silently be pleading with him to drop it. So he did.

"All right, wouldn't want you to freeze all those tattoos off," he said, delighted to see her smile. "And you have your belly button pierced? Anything else I should know about?" he gave her the over the glasses stare and smiled at her giggle.

"Nothing exciting, I promise. Earlobes pierced four times, belly, left ear cartilage, tongue, and used to have my nose pierced," John's mouth dropped for the third time that night.

"You're tongue? Now you're teasing!" he said.

"Nope, look!" she said. She stuck out her tongue and pointed in the middle. There was a tiny hole, filled with an equally tiny clear, plastic stopper. No one would ever know it was there. He raised his eyebrows.

"Holy shit, you're crazy," he said, shaking his head. Sam laughed and followed her partner down the stairwell.

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Later that night, john laid awake in his too big of a bed, thinking about his partner. She had said she had a brother and sister. Exactly how many children had Donald Cragen had that no one knew about? He had always considered he and Don close, so it was a shock when Sam came into the picture. Furthermore, what had happened to her brother and sister?

He had never seen her become so withdrawn and depressed so quickly. The way her eyes darted to the floor, unwilling to meet his own, it was very uncharacteristic of the woman who was usually so strong willed and open. He didn't like it one bit.

It astounded him how she went from being withdrawn, to putting it away just like that, with a switch of the subject. Though, he couldn't complain of the change of subject. The image of that perfectly toned stomach, tattoos, and belly ring were going to haunt him. He was infatuated with the woman. Which astounded him. Samantha Cragen was not his type, in the slightest.

He usually only dated high class, society women. The kind that owned small dogs, loved diamonds, and hated any kind of physical labor. Sam was the complete opposite. While she defiantly had poise, she'd rather rough house and be one of the boys. She had said she didn't own one piece of real jewelry, and she hated small dogs. She was much more likely to get a German Shepard, Blue Heeler, or Hound dog. In simply put terms, she was a country girl. She liked to wear flannel. She wore cow girl boots(to the group's amusement), and loved beans and corn bread. She loved nature, and wasn't afraid of mud, hell she probably liked it.

Not to mention, all the tattoo's and piercings. All his life, he had thought tattoos and any other piercing besides one ear piercing, was trashy. Samantha Cragen was anything but trashy. Yes, sometimes she could dress provocatively, and had the attitude of a woman who knows how to handle a man, but as far as he knew, she hadn't as much as even dated a man since starting the job. And she never talked about past lovers. Shit, to think of it, he was the only man that he knew of that she teased so roughly and on a regular basis. That in itself amazed him. What would a woman like her, want with someone like him? He had no idea, though he wasn't sure he wanted to know. He was content with whatever game they seemed to be playing.

John sighed in frustration and got out of his cold bed. He made his way to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of milk. It seemed he was going to spend another sleepless night thinking about his partner….and now her tattoos.

Fuck.

**Ok, first off, I AM SO SORRY FOR THE LATE UPDATE! I have been swamped with school work, with trying to graduate early and such. Now, with that apology out of the way…I really hope you liked this chapter! PLEASE REVIEW! I would love to have feedback, and I'm open to ideas, so give me some! If you would like me to post pictures of the tattoos I'm talking about, let me know, and I'll gladly do so! **


	3. Sugar Plum

**SUGAR PLUM**

**WARNING: This following chapter has mentioning of torture, rape, and abuse. You have been warned.**

** DISCLAIMER: I do not own any characters other than Sam. Wish I did, but that is Dick Wolf's honor!**

In just five months, he was getting too close. And she knew it. For some reason, she couldn't stop herself from getting closer to John. They just seemed to click so well. Last month had been a close call, when he had asked about Cassie and Davey. She found herself almost wanting to tell him. Tell him everything. And that was just something she couldn't do. She had buried her past. She had hid away for years, letting it die while she lived under the radar.

She wasn't naïve though. She knew eventually everyone would figure out who she was. She saw the thoughtful stares her coworkers gave her sometimes. It terrified her. She had no idea how to deal with it once they found out. Her father had told her not to worry, that they would deal with it when the time came. But honestly, how could she not worry?

She knew what everyone would think. She couldn't handle the looks of disgust. The looks of sympathy. The looks of curiosity. It took her breath away just thinking about it. And John, he had somehow cracked the wall she had worked so hard to create.

She couldn't believe how willingly she had lifted her shirt to show him her tattoos. She had never in her life been so comfortable with showing a man her body, without disgust or fear. One would never know it by looking at her, but Sam was in fact, an insecure woman. It actually scared her how comfortable she was with her partner. Sure, she was comfortable around Elliot and her other coworkers, but this was different. She was attracted to her partner. And she had no clue in hell what to do about it.

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"Seriously, it's Saturday, Captain!" Eliot complained as he all but flopped into his chair. The group was not too thrilled with their superior officer. It was eight o'clock on a Saturday night, which was a night originally promised they'd have off.

"Sorry to cut the weekend short, but we've got a very important case, assigned personally from the chief himself," Cragen held up a thick file. The gang eyed it wearily. "Has anyone seen Sam? She was supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago!" the words were barely out of his mouth when his daughter lingered in, silencing the room. She wore a black dress shirt, black knee-length skirt, and black heels. Her face was pointed down, but it was plain to see smudges of makeup that could only be created by crying.

"Sam?" Don said, placing a hand on her arm. She glanced around the room, a lost look in her eyes.

"Sorry I'm late. I was at a funeral," she said, looking back down at the floor.

"Who?" he asked.

"You didn't know her," she lied, avoiding his eyes and taking a seat at her desk. John stared at his partner. The look of sadness was foreign on the woman that seemed to always be smiling. It was odd to see tears on her face. They didn't belong there.

"Ok…well, on with why we're here," Don said, making a mental note to pull his daughter aside later. It wasn't often she cried. In fact, the last time he knew of when she cried was when the accident happened… "Back in '88 two teenagers found Marcy Dawson," he hung her picture on the board, "She was found with her wrists and ankles hog tied, and a gag in her mouth. She was raped, tortured, and branded with the initials 'KGB' on her thigh," he hung a picture of the brand mark on the board. "Over the next 7 years, five more women, Kelly Archland, Trina Beckened, RoShell Trillwood, Kendra Rynolds, and Darcy Quince, were found, same MO, same brand marked initials to the thigh," he hung the rest of the victim's pictures on the cork board.

"Each woman was abducted, midafternoon while they took their daily jog. He drags them into a nearby alley or bush and chloroforms them before abducting them. Witnesses say that he drives a black SUV. A card is dropped at the crime scene, and all it ever says is, "KGB." Ballistics never found so much as a partial print, hair, or fiber. He usually holds and tortures the victims for three days before finally killing them by slitting their throats," he finished, taking a seat on the edge of Liv's desk.

"He's stuck again?" Elliot asked.

"Yes, only this time, the abductee is a fifteen year old girl," Cragen said.

"Jesus," Liv whispered.

"Her name is Mia Omnitch. Her mother says that she went for a twenty minute jog around the neighborhood to keep in shape for track. After an hour over curfew, the mother called the police. They found the card in the alley way, two blocks from her home. Along with traces of chloroform," the room had gone eerily silent.

"So, we have three days people. I don't need to tell you how important it is not to waste any time on this case," Cragen said, rising from his perch on Liv's desk, "Benson, Stabler, talk to the mother, Munch, Cragen, canvas the neighborhood," Cragen ordered. He caught Sam by the arm, leaning in close to whisper in her ear. John tried not to eavesdrop.

"Do you need time off?" he asked gently.

"No, I'm fine," her face was void of emotion.

"Sam, you're not fine. Who was it?" he asked. She suddenly looked furious.

"No one that you would give a flying fuck about!" she snapped quietly. She left her shocked father behind her, not waiting for her partner to catch up.

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He watched her out of the corner of his eye as he drove. She was wiping the smudged makeup from her eyes as she stared out the window. He didn't know what to say. She was completely void of emotion. There were times when a look of pain would cross her face, and then it would be gone just as quickly as it came. The way she had snapped at Don had surprised him most of all. He had never seen them as much as frown at each other. Anyone with eyes could tell that they were extremely close.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly. She turned to him and gave him a fake smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry I've been such a Debbie downer today," she said.

"Don't worry about it. Do you mind if I ask who it is?" he asked. He watched as she tensed. She seemed to contemplate it for a moment, looking down at her lap.

"She was my best friend," she whispered.

"What happened?" he whispered as he parked the car, turning his full attention on her.

"She OD'd on heroin," she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, "But it's alright. I knew it would happen. Ok, let's get on with the canvas, shall we?" she turned to him and gave him another fake smile before quickly getting out of the vehicle.

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"Do you have to be such a prick? You're not the only one who hasn't slept in two days, Elliot!" Liv shouted.

"I'm the prick? You're the one being a bitch because I didn't fix your damned coffee right!" he shouted back. The two were less than a foot apart, trembling with rage. Sam sighed and weaseled her way in between the two.

"Look, ya'll both are getting on my last damn nerve. Go catch a couple of hours in the crib before I shoot ya both!" she said, pushing them to the stairs.

"Thank you!" John sighed. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He hated when they had to pull multiple days and nights. Stabler and Benson fought worse than a married couple.

Sam downed her sixth energy drink of the night and popped her neck. "Look, we ain't going anywhere until 1pp calls with the ballistics, why don't ya go catch a couple of hours too? I'll finish up all the evidence reports," she offered.

"Why don't you catch a few, too? The reports can wait, and there's nothing else we can do until 1pp calls?" he stifled a yawn.

"I'm ain't sleepy, you go head," she said, organizing files.

"Like hell. You're dragging your ass just like everyone else, not to mention you're talking like a hillbilly, which means you're sleepy" he said, poking her in the side.

"I'm a bit tired, but I don't think I could sleep," she said, keeping her eyes on the already organized files. John sighed. She wasn't taking care of herself. His partner hadn't even ate anything, even when the group managed to break for lunch these past two days. He was worried about her.

"How you doing?" he asked quietly, knowing she would know what he was really asking.

"I'm ok John," she gave him a genuine smile. "Honest," she reassured.

"Then please, get an hour of sleep? They'll wake us up when the call comes in," he begged. She continued to look down, not meeting his eyes.

"I'm not sleepy, John," she whispered. Her voice was almost pleading.

"Ok, ok. I can't make you sleep," he sighed, throwing his hands up in defeat. He turned serious and placed a warm hand on her arm and slid it down to her hand "If you need me, for anything, come get me, ok? Even if you get lonely and miss my charming wit?" he said, making sure she looked him in the eye. She smiled and nodded, giving his hand a small squeeze. They stayed there like that for a moment. She couldn't help but to notice the pronounced five o clock shadow he had acquired. She decided it rather suited him.

He squeezed her hand back and slowly let go. He gave her one last small smile before making his way to the crib.

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The past few days had been a blur for Sam. The chaos around her had somehow faded into the background. She was there, physically keeping up with the case, but mentally she was elsewhere. The last true friend she had was dead. Though, she had always knew the day would come.

She had met Hanna and her husband, Danni, after the 'accident.' Back then, Sam had been a pretty avid heroin user herself. After the accident, she had become two months sober, that is until she met Hanna. They quickly became friends, and the older couple took her in as one of their own. It took Danni dying in an alley from a heroin over dose to make Sam come to her senses. She got sober, once again, for good. Hanna, however delved deeper into the china lady. Ultimately, they had split ways, with Sam checking up on her every so often. It killed her to see what had become like her older sister waste away to nothing.

Her father had never liked Hanna or Danni, considering they were the ones that turned her back onto Heroin. She had always resented that he wouldn't allow her to go to Danni's funeral. He said it would be 'harmful on her road to recovery.' She always held onto the guilt of not being able to be there for Hanna afterwards. She blamed herself for the longest time as she watched her friend slowly kill herself. She had just recently come to terms that it was Hanna's choice. Sam knew first hand that a drug addict couldn't be helped unless they wanted to be.

Sam shook her head. She really had to get Hanna and Danni out of her head. Truthfully, she wanted to go home, get drunk, throw a tantrum, and sleep for a week. She was close to taking up John's offer, but figured that wasn't a good idea. She had nightmares every night. While she had learned not to wake up screaming, they still shook her up. Though, there were still the occasional ones that made her scream. Thusly, she refused to sleep anywhere in public.

She yawned and rubbed her eyes. This case was exhausting and frustrating. KGB was good at what he did. They had spent two days canvasing, and going over the crime scene with a fine toothed comb. A lead from a homeless man had lead them to the SVU used to kidnap Mia. They had found a certain type of chemical in the soil on the tires and a single unknown hair. Ballistics was currently attempting to match the soil to a specific location. It was the only lead they had, and they were all praying to God that they could find the location. They had until sun down tomorrow to find this poor girl. She tried not to think about what would happen if they didn't.

"How ya doing, kid?" Sam jumped at the sound of her dad's voice.

"I'm ok, daddy," she said shyly. They hadn't said much since she snapped at him.

"You know, you could always nap in my office?" he asked, knowing of her nightmares. She thought about it for a moment. "I'm thinking about catching a few myself. Too old to nap with dear old dad?" he persuaded. Sam giggled for the first time in days.

"Ok," she agreed, letting her father drag her out of the chair and lead her to his office.

"All right, one makeshift bed, ready for action!" he said, pulling down the full sized fold up mattress from the wall. Sam happily fell onto it, face first. Her father laughed and pulled off her heels for her, smiling at her groan of satisfaction. He slipped his own shoes off and poked his daughter in the side where he knew she was ticklish.

"All right, freckles, I know you're tired but you gotta make room for the old man, too," Sam laughed and slowly rolled, making room. She quickly curled into his side when he laid down, burying her face in his chest. She inhaled deeply, taking comfort in the sandalwood and coffee smell that was uniquely her father's. They laid there for several minutes, drifting in and out of sleep.

"It was Hanna, wasn't it?" He whispered. She was silent as she buried her face deeper into his chest, giving him the answer he already knew.

"I'm sorry pumpkin," he said, kissing her forehead. She let out a mangled sound and began to cry. Don ran his hand through her hair and held her as she finally began to mourn for her friend. For the first time in years, Samantha Cragen allowed herself to cry.

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John, Olivia, and Elliot all stood in the doorway of the captain's office, beholding the sight inside. The two Cragens were asleep, but how no one knew. Sam was on her back and had an arm thrown over her father's face, making everyone curious as to how he was still able to breathe. Her other arm was tangled in the edge of the pillow case. Cragen was on his side facing Sam, both legs splayed over his daughter's legs. His arms were tucked underneath Sam's back, making sure they had to both be asleep from lack of circulation. Even with the crazy placement, they both looked more relaxed than anyone could remember. The worry lines were gone from the captain's face, and the past few day's stress had vanished from the daughter's.

"I wish I had a camera," Liv whispered. The boys nodded and watched as Liv walked up to the bed. She shook the captain's shoulder. "Captain? Captain! Wake up!"

"Mmph? What?" came his muffled reply from underneath his daughter's arm.

"1PP called, ballistics is matching the location now, we should know in about five minutes!" this got the captains attention. He slowly pulled his arms out from underneath his sleeping daughter and sat up, attempting to fix his arms.

"I think they're going to have to be amputated this time," John said, watching Don's pathetic attempts to gain control of his arms.

"You may be right," Cragen agreed. He turned and slowly shook his daughter, ignoring the tingling pain in his fingertips. "Freckles?" he said gently. Sam let out a small whine and rolled away from him. Cragen sighed and stood up.

"SAMANTHA LYDIA JONES CRAGEN GET UP THIS INSTANT!" he shouted. Sam let out a small yelp and fell into the crevice between the wall and bed. The room busted out with laughter as the southern bell crawled her way out of the narrow space.

"What the hell is your problem daddy!" she said, a hand on her chest, attempting to calm her breathing.

"It's the only way I can get you up when you're really tired!" he shrugged. The rest of the room was still attempting to calm themselves. "Alright people, enough shits and giggles. We've got a little girl with 17 hours left to live, let's get on it," Cragen said, back in full captain mode. The room sobered immediately.

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"Alright, listen up," Cragen said to the group. They were huddled right outside an abandoned storage unit used for an old chemical plant. "Sam, John, go through the front entrance. Liv, El, enter through the back. I'll go through the side. Remember, we have no idea what shape this girl is in, or if she's even alive. Finding Mia is our top priority. Keep a watch out for KGB, this man is dangerous, especially since we don't know if he's armed," he was about to continue, when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He huffed a sigh of exasperation.

"Cragen?" he answered briskly. "Wait, what?" he asked, his face suddenly paled. "Okay, thank you," he slowly put his phone back in his pocket before meeting the curious faces of his team. "That was Warner. The hair was a match for Thomas Omnitch," he said.

"Omnitch? Any relation to Mia?" Liv asked. Cragen looked straight at his daughter when he answered.

"It's her father," he said gravely. Sam's eyes widened as she seemed to communicate through her eyes with her father. She didn't waste another moment. She ran to the front entrance of the building, not waiting for her partner. She swiftly kicked the door open and readied her gun. She was going to shoot the son of a bitch.

John quickly caught hold of his partner's elbow. "What the hell are you doing? Take it slow, he could kill her if he hears us coming!" he hissed. She calmed and nodded at her partner. They crept along slowly, looking for any sign of Mia. They found her as they turned the corner. A loud gasp escaped Sam.

There, in the middle of the room was Mia Omnitch. There were deep gashes along her breasts and thighs. She was hung by her wrists with what looked like wire, cutting her to the bone. KGB was branded on her newly shaved head. Her face was beaten and burnt almost beyond recognition. Her throat was slit, blood still slowly rolling down.

Gasps and swears were heard as the rest of the detectives met them at the horrifying scene. They were too late. Thomas had killed his own daughter.

"Sam!" Liv screamed. Thomas had snuck up behind her and held a knife to her throat, but Sam was ready for him. She swiftly elbowed him and took the knife from his hand. She punched him in the face, relishing the feel of his nose breaking under her fist. He fell to the ground and Sam was quick to jump on top of him, digging the point of the knife into his neck.

"Give me a reason. One reason not to slit your throat, you piece of shit!" she growled, digging the knife deeper, watching the blood start to appear.

"Samantha, that's enough!" Cragen yelled, dragging her off of him. Liv and Eliot quickly cuffed the vile man before Sam could get a hold of him again. They drug him to his feet.

"Look at her. Isn't she beautiful?" Thomas mumbled, looking at his dead daughter, "That's daddy's good girl. Daddy's little sugar plum!" he laughed in a high pitch, causing everyone's hair to stand on end.

Sam felt her breath leave. "_That's it sugar plum, be daddy's little girl."_

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_She knew he would come to her room again tonight. She heard him stumble in from downstairs. She held her breath and squeezed her teddy bear tight, waiting, listening. She counted his footsteps on the stairs. She counted his footsteps to her room at the end of the hall. The door knob slowly turned and she squeezed her eyes shut tight, knowing pretending to sleep would not help. He slowly cracked the door. "You awake, sugar plum?" her father slurred. She remained silent. Her stomach turned at the smell of alcohol that clung to him. She felt the dip on her bed when he sat down. He slowly pulled her princess comforter down, taking in the sight of her five year old legs sticking out of her nightgown. "Where's daddy's little girl?" he asked, rolling her over. She kept her eyes shut._

_ "Open your pretty blue peepers. Daddy wants you to look at him," he said, stroking her face. She kept her eyes closed and tried not to cry. He gave her a sharp slap to the face, making her give out a pained yelp. He threw a hand over her mouth and leaned closer. "Be quiet, or else. You're daddy's favorite girl, ain't ya?" he asked. Sam nodded. "Say yes, Daddy," he growled, squeezing her cheeks in his hand._

_ "Y-yes, Daddy," she whispered. Her father smiled._

_ "That's daddy's good little girl. My sweet little sugar plum," he cooed, he took off her Cinderella nightgown and tossed it to the floor._

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"Sam?" Don quietly asked. She was hyperventilating and shaking. Her eyes were far away. He could only imagine what memory she was lost in. He gently placed a hand on her shoulder. She let out a small whine and jumped back, eyes wide. She quickly composed herself, her face valid of emotion.

"You'll have my paperwork by tomorrow morning," she said, all but running out of the unit. John started to run after her, but was stopped by Don.

"Don't. She needs time to think," he said quietly.

"Why did she get so freaked out?" he asked.

"Her father," Don said.

"You?" John asked, thoroughly confused.

"I'm her adopted father, John. But it's not my story to tell. And I don't suggest you ask," he said, his face leaving no room for discussion. John watched his captain walk away, confused and worried about his partner.

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**Shew, sorry to be so dark this chapter! I hope you enjoyed it, though! Next chapter will be happier, I promise lol. I will also begin construction on Liv and Elliot's relationship next chapter! So PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW! I need criticism people! **


	4. Severed

**SEVERED**

**DISCLAIMER: I could only wish that I owned these characters!**

It had been about two weeks since the incident in the abandoned storage unit. Since then, Sam had become unusually quiet. She spoke only when spoken to, or when it had to do with a case. She dressed in dark clothing, and seemed to always be thinking of somewhere or something far away. It scared John.

He had seen enough rape victims in his time to know what a flashback withdrawal looked like. And Samantha could be the poster girl for it right now. He was conflicted on asking what had happened with her real father, though he could imagine just what happened. John hadn't seen her eat anything in two weeks, and she was steadily starting to lose weight. Black circles appeared under her eyes, even though she applied more make up. Even the way she sat was different. She usually sat relaxed, shoulders high. Now she sat hunched over, like she was trying to disappear.

That's why when she came in this morning, dressed in a white dress and cowboy boots, and even a smile, it was a shock to the detectives. She took off her blue jean jacket, and smiled at her coworkers. "What? Have I grown another head or somethin'?" she asked, laughing slightly.

"No, no. It's just good to see you so happy," Liv said, giving her friend a small squeeze on the shoulder. Sam gave them the brilliant smile they had been missing.

"Me too! Where's my coffee, partner?" she asked, raising her eyebrows and placing her hands on her hips. John smiled and quickly fetched her coffee. She took a deep swallow and sighed.

"Thanks!" she gave her partner a smile and then turned and started walking to her father's office. The group gave each other questioning stares, wondering what had changed over the weekend to make her normal. Though, no one was complaining. It was nice having the cheerful Sam back that they had all come to love. They watched with amusement as she kicked open her father's door, effectively making him jump.

"Daddy! Give me twizzlers!" she demanded, handing out her hand. If Don was surprised by her sudden shift in demeanor, he didn't show it. Instead, he laughed and feigned annoyance.

"You kicked my door open for candy?" he griped, smiling as she swiped the large canister off his desk. "You better eat something solid for breakfast, young lady!" he said seriously.

"Never!" she yelled. With that, she closed his door and made her way back to her desk, happily enjoying her breakfast of twizzlers and coffee.

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The cheeriness of the morning did not last, as it gave way to a tense afternoon. Elliot slammed his cell phone on his desk before taking a terse seat. The three detectives shared a look of anxious curiosity.

"Everything alright, El?" Liv timidly asked. Elliot was unpredictable when he was in a mood.

"Do I not bust my ass every week to bring home a paycheck?" he rhetorically asked. His voice was bitter. His coworkers quickly nodded, knowing this was the beginning of a rant.

"Then why the hell can that woman not get off my back for one day? Can I have just one day where I don't get jumped on?" he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, willing the impending headache to go away.

"What happened?" Sam asked. Elliot was not one to show so much distress at work, especially when it came to family.

"It seems I would much rather spend time here at work with my office wife, rather than with my family," he answered. He gave a synthetic laugh.

"Wait, she doesn't think we're..?" Liv started, motioning between she and her partner.

"Oh, come on, Liv. We both know she got that idea in her head the moment she saw you," he rolled his eyes remembering the meeting of his wife and partner.

_**-FLASHBACK-**_

_"Kath, I'd like you to meet my new partner, Olivia Benson," Elliot introduced. Kathy's eyes seemed to darken and sparkle with distaste upon looking at the woman. And why wouldn't she be jealous? Elliot had known the moment he saw Liv that Kathy would hate her. Liv was beautiful, even more so than Kathy. _

_ Olivia nervously shifted from side to side. She could feel Kathy's dislike for her as she felt her eyes rake over her body. Kathy sneered at the woman, hiding it behind a grimacing smile. She extended her hand. Liv took it and almost winced at the tight grip. "Pleased to meet you, Olivia. I assume we'll be seeing much more of each other?" Kathy's smile was almost predatory._

_ Liv understood her words clearly. Translation: "I'll be keeping a close eye on you." Liv had long since stopped worrying about Kathy. You can't deter a jealous woman after all. It was an unspoken agreement they seemed to come to: pretend they liked each other when Elliot was looking. Though Elliot was no fool, anyone could feel the tension between the two women._

_**-END FLASHBACK-**_

__"So, what? She wants you to start coming home more?" John asked. Elliot seemed to hesitate.

"Or not at all," he said quietly. The detectives were taken back. Sam raised her eyebrows.

"You mean, she kicked you out?" she asked, southern draw enhanced in her shock.

"Yeah," El replied. He rubbed a hand down his face.

"For how long?" Liv asked. She couldn't help but feel a little guilty.

"She didn't say," he said.

"El, I'm sorry. Look, what if I talked to her, maybe she would…" Liv was quickly cut off.

"No. Thanks Liv, but it isn't your fault. She knows nothing is going on between us. It's just a good excuse for her to be angry. Okay?" He amended. Liv slowly nodded, though still looked unconvinced.

"So, you need a place to stay?" Liv asked nonchalantly, going back to her paperwork.

"You really think that would be a smart idea?" John snorted.

"Yeah, ya get kicked out, and then stay the night at Liv's? Kathy will love that!" Sam agreed.

"Screw what she thinks. She's the one who kicked ME out, remember?" Elliot said. In all honesty, he was tired of his wife. If it wasn't for his children, he would have most likely left her a long while ago. The kind of innocent, high school love was long gone. He knew their marriage was hanging by the threads of Kathy's close to obsessive insecurities and his children. While he would always love Kathy, he knew he no longer was _in_ love with her. And Kathy knew it.

"What if ya go home early and talk it out with her?" Sam suggested. She had a feeling that if he went home with Liv, things would never be the same. She knew how her best friend felt about her partner.

_**-FLASHBACK-**_

_"Kathy is an insane bitch!" Liv slurred. Sam laughed at her friend, watching her grab another beer from the fridge. "No, no! You think I'm kidding!" Liv said, sitting back down and opening her fourth beer. Sam sipped on her beer and waited for her friend to continue. _

_ "This one time, El got shot in the arm. And I was sitting on the side of his hospital bed, just sitting there, not touching him at all. And the bitch came in, and you know what she said?" she asked, raising her arms in enthusiasm. Sam bit a lip to keep from giggling._

_ "What did she say, Livvers?" Sam asked, humoring her friend._

_ "She said," she crinkled her nose and assumed a haughty, high pitched tone, "What the hell are you doing? Get away from my husband! Can't you keep your filthy hands off of him for more than two seconds? You got him shot for God's sake!" Liv was standing now, hands placed on her hips. Sam was openly laughing now. Liv really knew how to impersonate her nemesis. _

_ "So what did ya say?" Sam managed to get out between laughter._

_ "I didn't say anything, I just walked out of the room and left her to it," Liv said a bit sadly. She sunk down onto the couch. All her playfulness from earlier was gone._

_ "Liv?" Sam asked, placing a hand on her friend's knee. _

_ "Ya know, I don't know why he stays with that improbable woman. He's miserable," she sighed. She gulped down the remaining liquid in her bottle._

_ "You love 'em," it was a statement, not a question. Sam smiled as Olivia's stomach fell through the floor._

_ "What? Um, no. He's my partner, Sam. Not to mention he's married!" Liv was almost hyperventilating. She looked anywhere but Sam's smiling face._

_ "Oh, bull shit, Olivia!" she couldn't keep the laughter at bay at Liv's horrified face._

_ "Is it that obvious?" Liv whispered, her face red._

_ "No, I just know you." _

_-__**END FLASHBACK-**_

Elliot sighed and eyed each of his coworkers carefully. "I'm not sure that I want to work it out," he answered flatly.

"You don't mean that, El," Liv coaxed.

"Do I?" he questioned. He didn't know any more.

"I thought divorce was a sin?" John said with his usual dry wit. The Catholic man gave him a smirk.

"I don't even think God would blame me for wanting to get away from that woman," Elliot joked. He and John shared a curt smile. John knew firsthand how his younger friend felt, having gone through it three times now. Sam didn't even try to hide her eye roll.

"Gee, you sound like you hate her!" Sam exclaimed. Elliot looked thoughtful for a moment.

"I could never hate her. She's the mother of my children. Strongly dislike, that's another story," he and John shared another indignant snort. Liv and Sam sighed.

"So, what, you're really going to file for divorce?" Sam asked seriously.

"I've thought about it," Elliot admitted. It seemed odd to be sharing his personal life at work, seeing how that was something he tried to avoid.

"Ah, the magical process of divorce. Late night shouting matches, dividing all your worldly processions, and placing a permanent vice on your manhood," John spoke, feigning wonder and amazement.

Again, Sam rolled her eyes.

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"I didn't realize how fed up with Kathy Elliot really is!" Sam said as she surveyed the street around them. She and John had volunteered to survey the surrounding area for a suspect for detectives Hulio and Dana. They both seemed busy with the case, so John and she decided to help them out. That, and it got them out of doing mind melting paperwork.

"There's only so much a man can take," John sneered. Sam had a feeling they weren't talking about Elliot anymore.

"Evidently you can't take much either, seein' as your divorced thrice over," Sam challenged, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, I can take plenty. Let's see here, one cheated on me with Briscoe, another divorced _me_ because I didn't buy her _diamonds_ on her birthday, and the last one said I am 'too much of a cynical, egotistical bastard," he looked over his glasses and fixed her with a glare.

"Uncle Lenny slept with your wife?" Sam exclaimed, mouth agape with shock. Though, she really shouldn't be too surprised. Lenny could be a bit of a dog at times.

"Briscoe's your uncle?" he countered.

"Well, not really. He's daddy's best friend, so he kind of just became an uncle. I can't believe he slept with your wife!" she shook her head.

"Neither can I," John said bitterly. Anytime he thought about Gwen his blood pressure rose. He took a deep breath, and with his exhale his anger dissipated. "What about you?"

"What about me?" she questioned.

"Ever married? Any memorable ex-lovers?" He saw her body visibly stiffen.

"No, I've never been married, and no one comes to mind," she said stiffly.

"Oh, come on. What about your first love?" he pushed, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

"Never been in love," she answered without emotion.

"Well any memorable one night stands?" he smiled mischievously.

"Jesus, John! You're worse than a damned woman! No, I've never even had a one night stand," she scoffed. John pouted and settled back into his seat.

"If I didn't know any better I'd say you were a virgin," he teased. She again stiffened and quickly looked out the window. _No. Now way… _"Wait, you're kidding," he trailed off. Sam sighed in frustration. "You're a _virgin_? You really expect me to believe that _you_ are a virgin!" he exclaimed, but immediately wished he hadn't. Her eyebrows shot up.

"And _what_ is _that_ supposed to mean?" she said, dangerously low. John gulped.

"Nothing! I mean, it's just hard to believe, the way you look, and carry yourself, I mean, that's not to say that I'm calling you a-" he said quickly, trying to pull the foot out of his mouth.

"Oh, shut up, I know what you meant," she cut him off, her face red as a tomato. He had seen her blush a hand full of times, but it was always very light, hardly even noticeable. This blush, however, traveled all the way to her toes. It would have been funny, if he wasn't sure he was blushing too.

"No, I'm not a virgin," she continued, "Well at least, I don't think I am. Or maybe I am," her voice trailed off, a look of pure confusion on her features.

"What-"

"Damn it, drop it John!"

He dropped it.

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"Will you at least let me enter my own home?" Elliot growled at the woman standing in front of him. Kathy crossed her arms and raised her stubborn chin.

"Oh, now it's your home? I thought you have to actually visit once in a while for it to be considered a home," she hissed. Elliot sighed.

"Jesus, Kathy would you just fucking move?" he said wearily. He had a headache from all the stress and paperwork and really didn't feel like dealing with her.

"Excuse me! Why would you talk to your wife like that? Do you talk to Olivia like that?" she asked, fury running throughout her features.

"Alright, enough. Enough! I've had it with this Olivia obsession of yours!" Elliot yelled, pushing past her into the house. "What is this really about, Kathy?" he asked.

"What do you mean what is this about? This is about you always working! When was the last time you spent a full day with your children? Or read the twins a bed time story?" she asked.

"You know damn well that I spend time with the kids every single Saturday unless there's a top priority case! And I've read the twins a bed time story the past four days in a row. So again, what is all this about?" he asked, strangely calm.

Kathy opened her mouth to speak, but shut it once more. The fight seemed to drain out of her. "I don't know, El. What's happened to us?" she whispered. Elliot sighed.

"I don't know. It just seems I'm always pissing you off. Either that or I'm always apparently cheating on you. Why do you do that? You know I would never commit adultery. So why do you do that to Liv?" he asked, a spark of anger igniting again.

"Oh, like you don't think about her!" Kathy countered, catching Elliot's igniting anger.

"Do you really think I would do that to you? Have I ever given you a reason, since we were 17, to ever doubt me?" he roared.

"Not until she showed up!" Kathy yelled back. Neither of them noticed the two small children peeking around the corner.

"What? What happened to make you think that?" he hissed, grabbing her by the shoulders. Kathy violently pushed him and fought angry tears.

"You think I can't see how you look at her?" she screamed, "That's the way you used to look at," her voice broke and failed her as hot tears ran down her face.

"Look at who, Kath?" Elliot whispered, his resolve shattered.

"Me," she dried her tears and looked up at him, her stubborn demeanor back. Elliot made a move to embrace her, but she quickly stepped back.

"Leave," she said sternly.

"What? Kath-"

"Now!" she shouted. Lizzie and Dickie cringed at her mother's tone. Elliot shook his head and moved for the door.

"No!" the twins yelled in unison. They sprung around the corner and tackled Elliot's legs.

"Don't go, Daddy!" Dickie cried.

"Mommy, please don't make him go!" Lizzie agreed. Elliot tossed a glare at Kathy and kneeled to embrace his children.

"I'll be back soon, ok? You're the man of the house, Dick," he kissed his children and slowly pried them off. Without another look, he practically ran out the door, leaving his wailing children calling after him.

The rain felt soothing on his burning flesh as he walked the city. _How did this happen?_ He mused. Bits of his life ran wild in his mind's eye. His mother trying to shoot him, meeting Kathy, marrying her, Maureen's birth. How could things go to hell, in just a few years? His feet continued to move, carrying him forward without knowledge of where they were going.

That's why when he was standing in front of Liv's apartment, it was a bit of a surprise. His feet continued and before he knew it, he had climbed the stairs and was in front of her door. He ran a hand over his face before finally knocking.

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Liv couldn't deny she had felt a little twinge of disappointment when Elliot had said he was going to attempt to work things out with Kathy once more. It annoyed her to no end. The fact that she felt something for a man she had no business feeling for. It was mentally exhausting.

She sighed and poured herself a cup of tea. Ever since that drunken confession to Sam, she had come to dwell on it. Did she love him? She told herself no. _Yeah, keep telling yourself that._ She growled at her inner voice.

A knock ran through her silent apartment, making her jump and almost spill her tea. She glanced at the clock. _Eleven o'clock? Who the hell? _She quickly threw on a robe and opened the door, gasping at who was on the other side.

"El?" she asked, taking in his appearance. He was soaked to the bone and shivering, quickly creating a puddle on the carpet outside. The most worrisome about him was not his state of dress, but the look on his face. He seemed lost, broken, and confused. She gently grabbed his arm and drug him inside. She took his wet over coat and draped it over a kitchen chair. Elliot looked around, looking like he forgot how he got there. He flinched when Liv placed a towel on his head, rubbing gently to dry his hair.

"Uh," he cleared his throat, "Thanks. I'm sorry I bothered you this late," he suddenly seemed embarrassed. Liv smiled kindly and shook her head.

"You know you're no bother. Want some hot tea?" she asked, already moving to the kettle on the stove. He realized just how cold he really was. He involuntarily shivered. "I've got a pair of your sweat pants and a sweat shirt here," she said as she handed him the tea. He accepted it graciously and took a gulp before giving her a sideways glance.

"Why do you have my clothes?" he asked, half amused.

"Remember when that perp threw hot coffee on me in that coffee shop? You gave them to me to change into," she answered. She'd never tell him that she slept in that sweat shirt numerous times throughout the week. "So, go get out of those clothes and I'll put them in the dryer, kay?" Elliot nodded and went to the restroom to change.

He was back in a moment, opting to put his own clothes in the dryer. Liv smirked. The man was just too damn proud for his own good. Upon taking a seat, he met Liv's leveled gaze and smiled sheepishly.

"So, you gonna sit there all night, or tell me why you're here?" she asked. Elliot swished the tea around in his cup.

"Kathy and I are getting a divorce," he said after a period of silence. Liv felt her eyes widen.

"Are you sure? Did she say she wants one?" she asked quickly. Elliot shook her head.

"No, I want one. Haven't told her yet, though," he sighed and gulped the rest of his tea, welcoming the heat that thawed his cold bones.

"El, you love Kathy, I'm sure you could work it out with her if you-"

"No, Liv," she was taken aback by the force of his voice. He softened and took a deep breath. "There is no saving this thing. I don't love Kathy. And in time, I think she'll realize she doesn't love me either," it pained him to say it, but it felt good to get it out. They both fell silent, lost in their own thoughts.

"So," Liv said after a long while, "What now?"

"I don't know. I guess I file for divorce and find my own place," he answered. It had really just hit him how much of a long, expensive process this was going to be.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Elliot?" Liv questioned once more.

"Yeah, I think so. It'll be hard on the kids, but it'll be better than seeing us fight all the time," he said thoughtfully.

"Well, if you're sure. Where you gonna stay?" she asked in the same nonchalant manner she used earlier. Elliot knew that tone.

"I don't know, I guess I haven't thought that far.."

"You could always stay here, just until you find another place," she offered, looking anywhere but at Elliot.

"Are you sure, I mean I'd hate to impose..." he was smiling, playing with her now. She glared at him and narrowed her eyes. Smug bastard could always see right through her.

"Oh, don't think you're going to get it easy. You're doing your own laundry, washing your own dishes, and so help me God if you leave the toilet seat up…" Elliot guffawed at his partner.

"Yes, mother," he teased. He suddenly became serious, "Thanks, Liv," he said, searching her brown eyes. He had always loved her eyes. There were always an open book, conveying everything she felt.

"No thanks necessary," she said quietly. She cleared her throat, "All right, now that that's settled, I'll get a pillow and some blankets," she made her way to her bedroom.

"What? You'd give me a kidney, but not your bed?" he shouted. Liv came back out of her bed room and threw a pillow at her partner's face. "You could have the floor if you rather?" she countered, dropping the blankets on his lap.

"No, no. Couch is fine!" he smiled and made his makeshift bed. Liv laughed as he flopped down, remote in hand.

"Glad to see you make yourself at home. Night, El, see you in the morning," she tossed over her shoulder at her bed room door. Elliot looked over the arm of the couch and smiled.

"Night, Liv. Thanks again." He watched her nod and slowly close her bed room door.

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**As promised, this chapter was focused a bit more on Liv and El! I hope you enjoyed it. As always, I love criticism so dish it out. Hit that little subscribe button! Also- Happy almost Thanksgiving! **


	5. Divide and Conquer

**DIVIDE AND CONQUERE**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Law&Order:SVU, or the song used in this story**

"_Promise, promise me you won't l-let those bad men hurt you anymore," Cassie's weak voice managed to sound strong in her sister's ears. Sam made a strangled noise as she ran a hand over her dying sister's cheek. Cassie's eyes shined with wisdom beyond her eleven years. _

_ "Don't talk like that, Case. The ambulance will be here any minute. You're going to be just f-" she was cut off._

_ "Promise me!" her hoarse voice cracked under strain. _

_ "I- I promise," Sam stuttered. Her sister seemed satisfied. All the fire had left, and she again looked like the dying little girl that she was. Sam stroked her hair, not bothering to conceal her tears to the public around her. She held her sister in the middle of the road. She felt the pain between her legs, felt the blood still tickling on her thighs, but none of it mattered as her sister fought to breathe. _

_ "Sing to me?" Cassandra asked, sounding so weak and distant. Sam smiled and held her sister closer. She began to sing the lullaby that she knew Cassie loved._

"_Softly I sing to you, my queen._

_I hope that you sleep so soundly_

_I am right here, don't wake my dear._

_Sleep well and I'll comfort you quietly._

_Dream of your land,_

_The waves on the sand,_

_Your thrown overgrown with wild flowers._

_Dream of the light,_

_Casting shadows at night,_

_Gentle raindrops in silver showers."_

_ Cassie smiled weakly, her breath coming in shallow pants. "I love you, sissy," she whispered. Her eyes slowly closed, and Cassandra took her last breath._

_ Sam felt her heart stop. "Case?" she lightly shook her sister. "Cassie!" she yelled, frantic. She didn't even feel the hand on her shoulder._

_ "Sam, let her go, she's gone," it was Don's voice. It sounded far away. _

_ "Cassie!" she screamed, body shaking. Looking to the sky, Samantha howled in pain._

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Sam woke to the sound of her screams resonating through her empty house. She blinked rapidly and pulled her sweat ridden night gown from her body. She squeezed her eyes shut. _Just a dream. Just a dream. Just a dream._ "Fuck!" she screamed as she tossed the now sweat soaked blankets back. She took the nearest object- a picture of the Eifel Tower- and chucked it at the wall, satisfied with the glass shattering sound. She let out another shout and collapsed on the floor in a quivering mess.

It wasn't often she actually dreamt of the death of her sister or brother, but when she did, it was always the worst. She could handle dreams of rape or torture, as she had almost every night. But the ones of her siblings? She would rather die than relive those memories.

Calming herself, she dried her tears and slowly made her way to the shower. It was already three in the morning, and she had to get up in two hours anyway. She might as well go ahead and start the day. She knew no more sleep would come tonight.

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John grimaced when he caught sight of his partner that morning. Her hair was fuzzier than usual, creating a wild halo around her head. She wore a pair of sweat pants and a NYU hoody. Her eyes were bloodshot and despite the makeup, those dark circles had reappeared.

"I forgot how short you really are," he teased, pointing at her converse clad feet. She rarely wore anything but heels, so it was weird having her only come to chest. She gave him a tired smile and greedily took the coffee in his hand.

"I ain't short, you're just freakishly tall," she countered. John snorted.

"No, I'm sure the problem is your short," he gave her his signature look over his glasses. Sam smiled halfheartedly.

"Daddy always say good things come in small packages, sugar," she teased, winking one of her eyes. Even with the lazy state of dress and frizzy hair, she still managed to take his breath away. She yawned and tiredly sat down in her chair, groaning at her pounding headache. John eyed his partner.

"Bad night?" he asked.

"You have no idea," she said gravely, remembering the terrifying memory that materialized into a dream. "I probably look a mess," she suddenly realized out loud. She patted her mass of curls and cringed, knowing they were out of control.

"Please, you couldn't look a mess if you tried," John mumbled under his breath, too loudly. He swallowed hard at Sam's sly little smile. _Damn it._

"What was that, Mister Munch? Was that a compliment?" she fluttered those baby blues and twirled an unruly curl around her finger. Munch rolled his eyes and was mortified to feel a blush creeping up on him. He was too damned old to act like a teenager. Thankfully, before he could say anything, Liv and Elliot bounded in, laughing and shoving bagels at the two of them.

"Yeesh, bad night, Sammie?" Liv asked as her friend shoved a bagel at her. Sam sighed.

"Do I really look that terrible?" she asked annoyed. Liv shifted from foot to foot, as she often did when she was nervous.

"No, no! I mean, you just looked tired!" Liv scrambled to say. Sam smiled and handed the bagel to her partner.

"It's fine Liv, I was just kidding. Yeah, bad night," she turned back to her partner, whom was eyeing the bagels greedily.

"You Jews sure like your bagels," she smirked. John wiggled his eyebrows.

"One of my people's many contributions to the world!" he said proudly. Sam laughed and shook her head and turned her attention back to the other two of their little quad. They were standing close, closer than they used to, talking and laughing. It had been seven weeks since they had become roommates, and the two were getting exceedingly _chummy. _

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"What you getting?" John asked, peering over his menu. After his partner's skipped breakfast and lunch, he figured maybe taking her to their regular burger joint, Crisco's, would entice her to eat.

"I ain't really hungry. I think I'll stick with a cherry coke," she answered. John put down his menu and fixed her with a vicious stare.

"You skipped breakfast and lunch, you need to eat!" he said sternly.

"I didn't hear you complainin' this mornin' when I gave you my bagel," she tossed back tiredly.

"That's beside the point," his tough guy act wavered with her wit. "Would you just eat something, please?" he sighed.

"Fine. The usual," she conceded. The smile on his face was worth defeat.

"Thank you!" he sounded relieved. He called their waiter and ordered their original: two cheeseburgers, fries, a cherry coke, and a sweet tea. Once he was finished he turned his full attention to his partner once more. "What's caused your loss of appetite, partner?"

"I don't know, just not hungry I guess," she lied, not looking him in the eye. She always lost her appetite for a few days after dreams of that nature.

"Well, get hungry because you're going to eat every bit on your plate, missy!" he said, imitating her father. Sam giggled.

"Yes, daddy," she said sweetly. John smiled wickedly and leaned forward.

"Ya know, I kind of like you calling me daddy," he wiggled his eyebrows and winked.

"Mmm, I thought a man like you would prefer to be called _master_," Sam all but purred without missing a beat. The waiter upon over hearing the conversation stared at the ground, red faced.

"Uh, h-here's your food guys. Need anything, let me know," he delivered the food and quickly stalked away, keeping his eyes on the floor. Both partners looked at each other before bursting into laughter.

"Oh my god-_ha_ we just traumatized the poor boy!" Sam gasped in between belts of laughter. John laughed and observed her. The stress of last night melted away from her features as she grabbed her ribs and wiped tears from her eyes. Feeling slightly rejuvenated by laughter, she took a bite of her burger and groaned. Every southerner loved a good, greasy burger.

"Ohhhh sweet Jesus, I didn't realize how hungry I was!" she moaned as she took another bite, ketchup running down her chin. She closed her eyes and spooned the offending drip back into her mouth, humming in satisfaction while sucking on her finger. Meanwhile, John was frozen, burger halfway to his mouth, eyes fixated on the brunette.

Within in a matter of two minutes she had scarfed down her burger and had completely captivated the older man in front of her. Her color had come back, and her face had lit back up. That, and the way she moaned with every bite was doing things to a certain part of his anatomy that hadn't happened in quiet sometime.

"Was it good?" he asked, albeit a bit strained. If Sam noticed the change of timber in his voice, she didn't comment on it.

"Very. Thank you," she answered while nibbling on a fry.

"No need to thank me, just glad you finally ate something," he watched a shy little smile come over her face. He had come to realize that a small, barely recognizable feeling in his gut seemed to appear every time he saw this woman. He willed it to go away. Last thing he needed was a crush on his partner.

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"Have you decided what to do 'bout custody?" Sam asked her friend. The gang was huddled around the large table up stairs, filing and filling out weekly reports.

"There's no way that they'll give me a full week until I get my own apartment," he sighed, mentally calculating the costs of buying a new apartment and furnishings. Liv felt a twinge of disappointment at the thought of him moving out. She had come to enjoy having a roommate.

"I could help you," Liv said quietly. She could sense Elliot's disapproval and quickly rushed on, "I mean, you would have to pay me back," she proclaimed. Elliot seemed to mull it over.

"You would really do that?" he asked in amazement, staring into her eyes looking for deception. He saw nothing but sincerity.

"Yes," she said without hesitation, "I would. Besides, it's not like you can't _not_ pay me back. I know where you live and work," she smiled wickedly.

"Have you even told Kathy yet?" John asked, staring intently behind him to the floor below. Elliot cringed.

"Well, no. I'm planning on telling her-" he was abruptly cut off.

"Now. Now's a good time," Sam said with wide eyes. She pointed downstairs. Elliot leaned over the railing and gulped. His wife was talking with the captain, whom was pointing in his general direction. They met eyes and stood there, observing each other. Kathy looked away first. Her face was twisted with a pained expression and something else- _fear_?

Elliot gave his coworkers a longing look over his shoulder as he descended the stairs to what was certainly going to be a battle. He approached Kathy carefully, gaging whether she was going to shout at him in front of the whole unit. Oddly enough, she said nothing, but lightly took his hand. Elliot did not pull away as she led him into the hallway.

She released him, keeping her eyes on the floor. "Kathy?" he asked quietly. She looked up slowly.

"El, I need you to come home," she said, taking his hand.

"Why? What's changed?" he asked, taking his hand back. She again turned her attention to the floor, seeming to fight an internal battle. She took a deep breath and faced him once more.

"I'm pregnant," it was a whisper, but it sounded like a resounding scream running through Elliot's head. _Pregnant._ He felt the world stop around him. Nothing moved, nothing breathed, except for her words running over and over in his mind. _Pregnant._

_ "Elliot. Elliot? Damn it El, say something!"_ her voice brought him back to the present. He shook his head, attempting to clear the fog around him.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Positive. I took three tests," she answered, covering her stomach with her arms. She picked at her thumb nail, a sign that she was nervous. "So, are you happy about it? Will you come home?" she asked, not meeting his eyes.

Was he happy about it? _Yes_. He realized with some shock. He was. He was going to be a father, again! He smiled with elation and scooped his wife into a tight hug. Kathy sighed in relief and held him close. "Yes, I'm happy. And yes, I'm coming home. I'm not saying that everything will go back to the way it was, there's still a lot we have to work through," he said as he brushed a stray strand of hair from her face. Kathy nodded and leaned into his touch.

"I know. I'm just glad you're coming home," she kissed her husband for the first time in seven weeks. They pulled apart when air had become scarce, each smiling shyly as they did when they were teenagers.

"Let me get my coat and we'll leave, kay?" he said, planting another kiss on her nose. Kathy smiled and leaned her forehead on her husband's.

"I love you," she said in a hushed voice. She didn't feel Elliot stiffen.

"I love you too," he whispered. He kissed his wife one last time and headed for his locker. A feeling in his gut pulled at him. Five minutes into reconciling with his wife and he had already lied; he didn't love her.

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Liv watched as Elliot and his wife embraced and kissed. She felt numb. Like something had been ripped out of her and crushed. She had felt like this one other time in her life. When she was fourteen, she fell in love with an older man. He being an older man, had quickly tired of her and tossed her aside. It had physically hurt, and for a long while, she felt this same numb ache that she was experiencing now.

"Liv?" Sam whispered, placing a hand on her elbow. They had all seen the scene. She and John had also seen the flash of pain across Liv's face, the way her body slumped, and most of all, heard the barely audible whine in her throat.

"I've got to go. El doesn't have a key to my apartment, and he'll need all his clothes," she whispered. Her voice sounded strangled, as if it pained her to talk. Sam watched helplessly as her friend trudged down the stairs, looking defeated.

"Does she hate Kathy that much?" John asked, thinking Liv to be overdramatic.

"It ain't that," Sam answered.

"Then what is it?" he inquired.

"She loves him, John," she turned to him now, her face twisted in sympathy for her friend. John frowned and took off his glasses. Sam momentarily forgot her sadness and stared in awe at her partner. He's big brown eyes looked bigger than usual since they weren't distorted by lenses. They were deep, warm, and seemed to pull her in.

"Sam. Sam?" John gave his partner a puzzled expression, which intensified at her slight blush.

"Uh," she cleared her throat, "Sorry, what ya say?" she attempted not to look at him.

"I said, what do you think changed? I mean, how many times has Elliot said he wanted a divorce in these past weeks? Then she shows up and everything's fine?" he questioned.

"Who knows. It had to be somethin' drastic though," she said. Sam sighed as she thought of her best friend. "I wonder what Liv's gonna do?"

"Nothing much she can do," John said tiredly. Sam sighed and moved past him to the stairs

"I'll check on her later after El gets his stuff," she paused at the top step, "Oh, and John," she looked over her shoulder through her long lashes, making his breath hitch, "You should consider getting' contacts 'cause you got some sexy eyes," with that, she bound down the stairs with a husky chuckle, leaving her speechless partner behind her.

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Liv sat on her now vacant couch, her third martini of the night in her hands. She felt pathetic. Only an idiot would fall in love with a married man, much less her partner. She groaned at the memory of their earlier conversation.

_"I thought you wanted a divorce?" Liv said accusingly as she let him into her apartment. Elliot sighed and began rummaging for his clothes._

_ "I did. That was before Kathy got pregnant," he didn't bother to look at her shocked expression. Liv recovered quickly and felt her veins flood with anger._

_ "What, you think a baby is going to fix everything?" she asked, tossing a pair of pants at him. _

_ "No, but I have to try," he answered, attempting to quell his rising temper._

_ "Oh? How do you even know it's yours Elliot? It's been seven weeks, are you sure you're the only man she's been sleeping with?" she hissed. Elliot swiftly turned to face her, their bodies were mere inches from each other._

_ "She wouldn't do that, she loves me," he said quietly. Liv smirked and leaned forward, their noses almost touching._

_ "Sure, she does. But do you love her?" Elliot growled and turned away from her. He shoveled clothes and toiletries into his overnight case. _

_ "Of course I do. What the hell are you so angry about, Liv?" he asked, violently zipping up the case. _

_ "You're being played! She's going to rope you back in with a child, that may not even be yours, and you're going to be just as miserable as before!" she yelled. Elliot pushed past her to the door._

_ "Is that really what you're angry about?" he questioned. There was a sarcastic under tone to his voice. Liv raised her eyebrow in question. "Are you sure the real reason you're angry isn't because you're alone? At the end of the day, I have a loving wife, loving children, and even another baby on the way to go home to. Tell me, what do you have?" he said. He immediately wished he could take the words back at the pain that flashed across her face. _

_ "Get out!" Liv hissed._

_ "Liv, I didn't mean-"_

_ "Now!" she yelled, turning so he couldn't see her tears. Elliot left without another word. _

Liv grabbed her head and sipped at her drink, welcoming the burning sensation sliding down her throat. She knew he hadn't meant what he said. She also knew he only said it because he knew it would bring her pain.

It was true, she was all alone. Her biological clock was ticking, she was well aware. She wanted nothing more to have a child before it was too late. Sure, finding a man to settle down with would be nice, too. But more than anything, she wanted a baby. She had looked into adoption, but the agency had turned her down. They claimed that she worked too many long hours, had no family support system, and no steady man in her life. She had soon realized they were right.

Why should she put a child into that situation? She would hardly get to see the child, with her work schedule. There would be no family to share with it at Christmas, nor would the child have a father. Liv had all but given up hope on having a family. Maybe this was just karma's way of getting back at her for what happened to her mother.

Liv sighed and finished off her glass in a swift gulp. It was then that she realized with a start, she was becoming her mother. Drinking her sorrows away, alone, no living family. She snorted and mixed herself another drink. Karma indeed.

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Sam could smell the alcohol rolling off of her friend in waves. "You gonna stare at me all night, or invite me in, Livvers?" she teased, motioning for her friend to step aside. Liv stepped, or rather stumbled, back to the couch, leaving the door open for her friend.

"How many drinks have you had?" Sam asked noticing the jar of olives and bottle of half empty vodka on her coffee table.

"A few," Liv slurred. Sam chuckled.

"Bull shit, you're trashed, girl," she took a seat beside her friend and took a deep breath, "Ok, are ya gonna tell me what happened, or am I gonna have to force it out of ya?"

"I don't feel like talking," Liv reached for the vodka, only to have it taken away.

"Liv…" Sam warned. Liv felt that familiar heat of rage once more.

"Mind your own fucking business and give me my drink!" she shouted, shoving Sam's shoulder hard. Sam tightened her jaw and threw the bottle to the floor. Liv's shout mingled with the sound of the glass shattering. They both stared at the puddle of vodka and glass shards in front of them.

"You've had enough, Olivia," Sam said quietly, laying a hand on her friend's shoulder. Just like that, the days stress and emotional pit falls broke Olivia's resolve. Sam pulled her sobbing friend to her, stroking her hair and letting Liv retell the day's events to her.

Olivia finished her story and quietly clung to her friend. Neither spoke, because there was nothing more to say. Sam merely held her until Liv nodded off. She carefully extracted herself from Liv's grasp, covered her up, and made her way back to her own empty apartment.

The day had taken a toll on her, between the nightmare that morning and the drama between Liv and El, she was ready to crawl in her bed and sleep the weekend away. Her last conscious thought that night was of warm brown eyes, drowning her in warmth.

** I know this is currently focusing more on Liv and El, but I promise it's primarily a Munch/OC fic! Lol. The lullaby that I used in the beginning of the story is called **_**Softly I Sing**_** by Hania Lee. She isn't too well known, but she is amazing! The only thing I changed in the lyrics was the word king, to queen(obviously because her sister is a girl..duh). **

** I would also like to give a shout out to **__**xxxcrybabyxxx11! ****Thank you so much for your kind words and support! As always, if anyone has any suggestions, or anything they would like to see in my story, PM me and I will gladly fit it into my plot! I'm thinking the next chapter will be a bit darker and focus on Sam, so we'll get back in the crime fighting scheme! Subscribe and please please please review! **

**Happy Black Friday!**


	6. Living Nightmares

**LIVING NIGHTMARES**

**WARNING: THIS CHAPTER HAS RAPE, TORTURE, AND MUTILATION. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own SVU…sadly.**

Donald Cragen sat at his office chair, clutching a file he was loath to have in his grasp. A fifty two year old male had taken to buying children from drug lords, and tortured them for his own sick pleasure in his basement. He always released the children afterwards, handing them back to their parents. While this was disturbing, it wasn't what was bothering Don. He recognized this man's name.

Kyle Rutland.

He knew from the method of capture and torture that it was him. He could feel it in his bones. The question was: how the hell did he tell Sam?

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Sam could tell from her father's posture that something was wrong as he exited his office. The group quieted and gave their captain their full attention. It seemed like ages had gone by before he began to speak in a hushed, nervous manor.

"This case is going to be extremely difficult. At any time, any of you need to step back, please do so. There will be nothing held against you," he spoke to everyone, but kept he's gaze on his daughter. Sam shifted uncomfortably.

"Just get to it, will ya?" she muttered under her breath. Don took a deep breath and kept his attention on his daughter, as if he was speaking solely to her.

"There have been attacks in Queens that have been linked to recent, as well as old attacks here in Manhattan. The man makes some kind of bargain with parents whom are willing to give him their child or children for a period of time. He then locks them in a basement and tortures them and rapes them. He has never killed a victim, and returns the children to the parents when the deal is up," he paused and let it sink in. Sam could feel a sinking feeling in her gut. The kind of feeling you get when you know something wrong was about to happen.

"His name," his tone was gentle as he stepped towards his daughter, "is Kyle Rutland. Sam literally felt herself go numb at his name. She squeezed her eyes shut in a vain attempt to keep the memories from rushing back.

_**-FLASHBACK- **_

_ "I'll give all three of them to you, for one day. It'll cost you two grand," she watched in horror as her father made a deal with the evil man in front of her._

_ "No!" she yelled, getting on her knees in front of the man. "P-please. Take me instead. You can have me for three days, same price!" she begged. She didn't care what happened to her, she only thought of what would have to her seven year old sister and three year old brother. Her father slapped her across the face._

_ "Keep out of this!" he growled angrily. The evil man in front of them stroked his chin._

_ "Actually, I prefer girls her age. It's a deal young lady," he grinned and began to pay her father. Her father gave her a small nod and took her face in his hand, squeezing._

_ "You be good for Mr. Rutland, you hear? I have to go away on business for a few days, and if I hear you gave him any fuss, you'll deal with me when I get back," he threatened. Sam nodded wearily. Her brother and sister were safe from the evil man, and safe from their father until she returned, that's all she needed to know. _

_ The evil man had been gentle when he placed her in his van, and even was nice as he placed her in his dungeon- like basement. He had given her food and water and left her to explore her home for the time being. There was a bucket in the corner, what she had assumed was the toilet. A small, dirty mattress laid beside it. That wasn't what made her uneasy. It was the chains on the walls, and the metal table that worried her. _

_ It wasn't long before he came back. He had removed her clothes without a single word, and was on top of her in a matter of seconds. No one had touched her in that way, other than her father. Oddly enough, she felt detached. She no longer feared this activity- dreaded it, yes, but fear-no. She laid there, looking away from him and imagining she was elsewhere._

_ It was after that moment that he became violent. The moment he pulled out of her, he began yelling. First it was hung up by her wrists without food or water the rest of the day, having to release her bladder on herself. Next came the burns, more bluntly, cigarette burns to her thighs. She could handle that. It was when he moved her to the table, the real torture began._

_ The next two days were a blur of agony and humiliation. He would place some sort of electrical device inside of her, and leave it on until she passed out from sheer pain. She had never in her life experienced such a vile, abrupt pain. It was hot. It was cold. It felt like it was melting her, then tearing her apart again. She would fade in and out of consciousness, praying for death each time she had awoke._

_ Those three days had felt like forever to her. She couldn't even remember how she had got home. All she could remember was the pain, the shame. The way he felt inside her. The way he laughed when she screamed. The painful feeling of wishing for death. _

_**-END FLASHBACK-**_

When Sam came back to herself, she immediately grabbed the trashcan from the side her desk. She gagged and let out a mangled cry. Her father rushed to her side and held her hair and rubbed her back.

"Let it out, Freckles," he whispered, wishing there was something more he could do as his daughter sobbed and wretched into the waste bin. She stayed bent over the trash can long after she had finished, shivering and gasping. Her friends watched her with worry and confusion.

She slowly sat back on the floor against her father's chest, eyes still tightly closed. She willed herself to breath at a more natural rate and make the shivers stop racking her body. After several minutes of tense silence, the woman opened her eyes and stood up. Without a word, she quickly made her way to the roof.

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John Munch made his way slowly up the stairs with a cigarette and a light in hand. He found his partner sitting on the wall, staring at the city around her. He wordlessly handed her the cigarette and lighter.

He knew she wouldn't speak until she was ready. So he waited. He didn't know how long they sat in silence. It was long after she had tossed the end of her cigarette away that she began to speak, her voice barely audible.

"My father wasn't a good man," she said simply. She kept her gaze focused on the ground below. "When I was twelve, he met Kyle Rutland. He was going to lend me, my brother, and sister to him for a day if Rutland paid him two grand. Cassie was seven, and Davie was only three," she heard John suck in a breath. "I couldn't let him take them, so I told him I would go for three days as long as he left Cassie and Davie. I knew my father was going away for a few days, so I didn't have to worry about them being alone with him. So I went with him," she sighed and turned to him.

"He tortured me for three days in that basement," her eyes were fierce with remembered hatred. John didn't know what to say. 'I'm sorry' hardly seemed adequate. "They didn't need to know that kind of degradation," she continued, speaking of her brother and sister. "They were just kids."

"So were you," came his whispered reply. Her face crumpled as if she was going to cry, but she quickly composed herself and laughed.

"Yes well, some of us have to grow up quickly," she gave him a tiny smile and looked back to the city. John felt his chest tighten as he saw this woman in new light. It took a strong person to willingly volunteer to go through what was certain hell. Just to keep her brother's and sister's innocence. He wasn't sure he could have done the same if he was in that situation.

"Anyway, enough of this depressing shit. Will you promise me something partner?" the last hour's sorrow was completely wiped from her face, as she had her usual feisty demeanor back.

"Anything," he said sternly.

"Don't let me kill the bastard once we find him, okay?" she smirked as John chuckled lightly.

"Deal," he agreed, taking her hand to help her off the wall. She held onto it and looked him in the eyes.

"Thank you, John," the sincerity in her voice combined with the look on her face was enough to make his breath hitch. She was beautiful.

"No need to thank me," he squeezed her hand and smiled gently at her. She returned his smile and dropped his hand, immediately missing its warmth.

"Alright, let's get this bastard!" he smiled at her renewed fervor.

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The two partners arrived in the squad room just in time to see Liv and Eliot ushering in a distressed woman and a young girl. The girl looked to be about ten or eleven. They knew immediately the girl was the last victim.

"I swear to God, if I knew what her father was doing," the girl's mother began. She put a hand over her mouth and ran a hand over her daughter's hair. Liv took the woman by the elbow and motioned to the two detectives approaching them. "This is detectives Munch and Cragen, they're going to talk to Leena," the woman violently shook her head.

"No, I need to stay with her," she hugged her daughter to her.

"Mrs. Goodman, I understand you want to be with your daughter-" Elliot began

"You're not talking to her alone!" Mrs. Goodman growled. Sam intervened.

"Mrs. Goodman, I assure you we'll be gentle. I know this is hard, but the only way we're going to catch this guy is by talking to Leena," she said gently. The woman opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off by her daughter.

"It's ok, mama," Leena whispered. Helen Goodman looked at her daughter as if she was seeing her for the first time.

"Are you sure?" she questioned. Her daughter nodded and took a step towards Sam. With a reassuring nod from the mother, the detectives took the mother and daughter into different rooms.

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"Can I get you anything else, Mrs. Goodman?" Liv asked as she handed the woman a cup of coffee. The woman graciously took it and sipped slowly.

"No thank you, this is fine. Please, call me Helen," she replied.

"Alright, Helen," Elliot began, "tell us about your ex-husband." A disgusted look came across her face.

"We met when we were just kids. I got pregnant with Leena when I was nineteen. We got married, and two months after Leena was born, we got a divorce. He didn't come back in Leena's life until about a year ago," she finished.

"Does he have a drug habit?" Liv asked

"Not that I know of. Isaac didn't even drink," she replied.

"Helen, is there any reason at all that you can think of that Isaac would have for what he did?" Elliot watched as she put her head in her hands.

"No! I don't know why he would do that to Leena. He seemed so sincere when he talked about wanting her back in his life… I never should have let her stay with him," she wiped furiously at the tears falling down her cheeks.

"You can't blame yourself for this, there's no way you could have known," Liv rubbed her back soothingly.

"Mrs. Goodman, your ex-husband is just as guilty. Give us his address, and I promise you, you'll never have to worry about him again," Elliot said quietly.

She replied without hesitation, "233 23rd street."

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"I know this is hard to talk about, Leena, but can you please tell me what happened?" Sam asked the quiet little girl. Leena kept her attention focused on a loose thread on her jacket.

"I don't want to talk about it," she whispered. John took a seat in front of the girl, while Sam took a seat beside her.

"I know it's hard, but we need your help to find him, he could grab another little girl," John said. Leena snapped her head up in alarm.

"You mean, he's done it to other kids?" she asked, eyes wide.

"Yes, sweety. Many others. That's why it's so important that we find him," Sam said while taking the frail girl's hand in hers.

"What do you want to know?" she asked, staring at their joined hands.

"Where did your father meet him at?" John asked. Leena continued to stare at their hands.

"At this abandoned shack at the beach," she answered.

"Leena, do you remember how you got to the basement he locked you in?" Sam asked. Leena scrunched her eyebrows together.

"I can't remember," she said.

"Think really hard for me sweety," Sam said, squeezing the girl's hand.

"There were a lot of trees," she recollected.

"Good, that's good Leena! Anything else?" Sam said.

"There was a smell. It kind of smelled like something burning, but it had a sour smell to it," she trailed off, trying to put the smell into words.

"Kind of like something rotten or dead?" Sam said. Leena nodded her head.

"Yeah, that's it," she agreed. Sam knew what she was talking about. She had smelled the same thing when Rutland had taken her on the long ride all those years ago.

"What about the house? Can you describe the house?" John asked.

"He blind folded me and led me down some stairs. It was cold. When he took the blind fold off I was in a little room. There was a nasty looking bed on the floor and a bucket in the corner. There was also a table and ch-chains on the walls," she shivered remembering what happened with said chains.

"Leena, I know this is going to be very hard, but I need you to tell me what he did," Sam whispered, taking both hands in her own now. Leena sat quiet, trembling with unshed tears.

"I can't," she whispered.

"Leena, I know it's hard-"

"No you don't!" she cut off Sam midsentence. "You don't know what it's like," she was crying now.

"I do, Leena. It happened to me too," Sam admitted quietly. Leena raised her head in disbelief.

"You're lying!" she said, sure it was a trick to make her talk. Sam shook her head.

"No. I know what he does. I know about the burns, and the electric shocks," she hinted. Leena sobbed and quickly buried her face in Sam's chest, clinging to her shirt with iron fists. She rocked the girl slowly, saying soothing words in her ears.

John felt as if he was outside the window looking in. He quietly stepped out of the room and met the rest of the squad and the distraught mother outside the double sided window. They watched in awed silence as Sam rocked the girl into a state of calm.

"I know it's something you don't want to talk about, but I need you to tell me what happened, Leena," Sam said in the girl's ear.

"Why do I have to tell you? You already know, so why do I have to say it?" she whined, sitting back up in her chair.

"Because, I have to have it in your own words so we can put this guy in jail," she answered.

"Why can't you just use your story?" she asked, crossing her arms in discomfort.

"Because it happened too long a time ago," she paused and gently lifted the younger girl's head to meet her eyes, "Leena, I know you don't want what happened to us happen to another little girl or boy. Please, Leena. Help me find him so we can stop him for good?" she all but begged. Leena's resolve melted and she told the events that were eerily familiar to the detective. After she was finished, they clung to each other, knowing they were connected now on some sort of level.

"Thank you so much, Leena," Sam said as she hugged the brave little girl in front of her, "If you need me at any time call me, ok? Day or night," she handed her a card out of her back pocket. Leena nodded and hugged the older woman once more before Sam ushered her out of the room and back to her mother.

Sam watched the women leave. A heavy knot in her stomach had materialized. Her coworkers eyed her almost apprehensively, like they were afraid to say something that would offend her. She huffed a sigh of indignation and turned, aggravation evident in her voice. "Are ya'll gonna stand around gawking at me all day, or are we gonna go find Leena's bastard daddy?"

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Half an hour later had John and Sam watching their coworkers interrogate Leena's father. "You're an average man," Elliot began, tossing photos of his daughter's wounds on the table, "Good job, decent income, no drug or booze problems. So tell me, why the hell did you sell your daughter for a thousand bucks?" he slapped the last photo on the table.

Isaac Goodman felt his stomach twist. He's face took on a look of horror as he inspected the photos. He quickly dropped them and shoved them as far away as possible. "I don't know what you're talking about, I didn't sale her," he stated.

"Oh? So, you let him rape and torture her for free?" Liv accused.

"No! I mean, he paid me, but he said he was only going to take pictures," he said in shame.

"Pictures?" Liv asked.

"It was just supposed to be pictures," he reiterated.

"What kind of pictures?" Elliot asked, though he was sure he already knew the answer. The man fidgeted in his seat.

"I don't know. I didn't ask."

John heard his partner release a low growl beside him. Her eyes were fixed on the man, fists clenched. He gently pried a hand loose and held it, wincing at her tight grip.

Elliot felt the vein in his head throb as he pulled the man to his feet and pushed him to the wall behind him. "Alright, enough of your games. You know damn well what kind of pictures he had in mind when you sold her," his voice increased in volume, "Do you know what that man did to your daughter? He raped her. Put burning cigarettes on her thighs. Electrocuted her from the inside. Was that thousand bucks worth it?" he hissed. The father choked back his tears and couldn't meet the detective's eyes. Elliot released him and shoved him back into the chair.

"Where did he take her?" Liv asked. The man placed his head in his hands.

"Two miles down the road from the old crematorium," the detectives nodded and exited the room. Sam turned to her friends, realization dawning on her face.

"That's the smell. Burning flesh from the crematorium!" she said. They nodded in unison. "Ok, so let's go get the son of a bitch!" Liv grabbed her hand before she could walk away.

"Are you sure you should be going?" she asked what was on all their minds. Sam frowned and nodded her head.

"Don't worry, John promised he wouldn't let me kill him," she smiled at her partner and flipped one of his suspenders. John winced and rubbed his chest.

"Good enough for me, let's go!" Elliot yelled.

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Sam's stomach leaped in her throat at the smell of burning death. They were close, she could tell. It would be less than half an hour now.

"You ok?" the look of green on her face was worrying him.

"Yeah, smell's just making me queasy," she leaned her head on the window and took deep breaths through her mouth.

"Are you going to be ok?" he asked. He knew she would know what he meant.

"I think so. I keep seeing what he did to me happening to Leena. I'm ready to get this bastard," she said sternly, as if she was trying to talk herself into it. She didn't fool John, he heard the uncertainty in her voice.

"There's no shame in being afraid. If at any moment you want to turn back and wait in the car, do it, alright?" he said. Sam scoffed.

"Like hell! I'm bringin' him in myself!" she shot him a glare.

"Ok, ok! I'm just letting you know, down woman!" he teased. Sam punched him lightly in the arm. "There it is," he said suddenly. Sam followed his line of sight to a crumbling house in the distance. She knew it was the house they were looking for. She could feel it in her bones.

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"We'll get front, you get back?" Everyone nodded at John's suggestion. Sam and John waited a few minutes for the others to get around the house. At John's nod, Sam gritted her teeth and kicked the door in. In front of her, was the man who had consumed her dreams at night. Kyle immediately sat up on the couch and threw his hands up.

"Hey there, Kyle, remember me?" Sam smirked. Liv and El had arrived behind them, keeping their guns trained on the surprised man on the couch. Kyle blinked a few times before his face lit up in a malicious manner.

"Boy, you really grew up, didn't ya, Dollie?" Sam frowned at the name. "Sure grew up nice. What size bra you wear girl? C cup?" he laughed and looked her up and down. "Is it true you killed your dad?" he laughed once more at her wide-eyed expression.

"That's enough. Kyle Rutland, you are under arrest for children trafficking and the rape and torture of Leena Goodman," Elliot spat. He and Liv slapped cuffs on him and drug him up from the couch. "We'll take him back to the house," they drug him away quickly, so he wouldn't say another word.

John observed his partner. Her gun was dangling loosely in her hand and she had a faraway look in her eyes. "Sam?" Just like that she cleared whatever memory was in her mind's eye and came back to the present.

"Let's find the basement," she said as she put her gun back in its holster. The two detectives found the staircase in no time. She took a deep breath and opened the heavy wooden door. She froze. It was just like she remembered. It was dim lit. The same table and chains where on one side. The same bed and bucket was on the other. Her breath quickened as she stepped into the room and ran a hand down the chains. John watched in silence as his partner allowed herself to remember. She walked around the room, sometimes running her hand along a wall or item. She paused at the table.

She gasped at the sudden phantom pain she got when she touched it's cool surface. The memory of white hot pain seared through her, making her cringe. "I think we've got all we need, right?" she whispered.

"Yeah, let's go," he said equally as quiet. Sam paused at the door, giving the room one last look over.

"I've dreamt about this room almost every night ever since it happened," she said.

"That's why you won't sleep in the crib, you have nightmares," it was a statement, not a question. She nodded her head and turned to him, a sad expression in her eyes. It was odd seeing her so openly venerable.

"I guess it's just nice to finally put it to rest," her voice cracked and John pulled her to him. He could feel the tremors she was trying to suppress. She placed her face in his neck and attempted to slow her breathing and keep the tears at bay. Now was not the time for a meltdown.

His heartbeat felt strong under her hand, and oddly enough, it had a calming effect on her. She duly noted the scent of cinnamon and spice. It was quiet nice.

"You ok?" he whispered, his voice vibrated from his chest to hers.

"Yeah, I think so," she shyly looked up at him.

"You sure?" he held onto her, not wanting to release her.

"Yeah," she gave him one of her shy smiles. "Thank you," she had the same look on her face that she had that morning on the roof that had taken his breath away. She hesitated slightly, but stood on her tiptoes and gave him a light kiss on the cheek. She then quickly stepped away and headed up the steps, leaving her shocked partner behind her.

He told himself it was just a harmless kiss on the cheek. But the heart trying to leap out of his chest didn't believe it was 'harmless'.

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"If ya'll don't fuckin' get out of my way, I'm gonna skin each an' every one of ya!" if the southern bell wasn't so angry, they would have laughed at her southern drawl.

"You can't go in there, Samantha. You're too emotionally involved in this case!" her father said firmly.

"Like hell! I know that sonovabitch better than all ya'll. I know how he thinks. You gotta let me do this," she calmed her temper and stared intently at her father. "Please, daddy. I need to do this," she whispered. She and Don continued the conversation with their eyes, as they often did in stressful situations. Each knew the other well enough to know what they were thinking.

"If anything starts getting out of hand, you'll leave," he said. Sam sighed in relief and hugged her dad.

"Promise," she swore. Samantha Cragen took a deep breath and entered interrogation room number five. She was alone with the man that repeatedly haunted her dreams.

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The smile Kyle gave her when she walked in could be described as nothing more than _predatory._ His greedy eyes took in her long legs, bountiful chest, and toned back side. Sam felt her skin crawl, but hid it well.

"Well, well. Little Dollie grew up, didn't she?" he licked his lips.

"We all have to at some point. Though, you rather look like you're beginning to shrink in your old age," she replied without skipping a beat. The man laughed at her wit.

"Just as mouthy as ever. Tell me, did you enjoy killing your bastard daddy?" he smiled at her visual flinch.

"We aren't here to talk about me. Let's talk about you. How'd you meet Isaac Goodman?" her voice was tight.

"He found me. Guess he heard of my business," he smirked.

"Tell me, what did you do to Leena?" she asked.

"Don't play dumb. I'm sure you of all people know what happened in that basement," the bastard sounded smug.

"Pretend I don't," she replied. He laughed, the sound making her hair stand on end.

"Sorry, I don't kiss and tell," he all but purred. Sam growled and threw a chair across the room into the wall.

"You're already goin' to jail, so why not go ahead and let the world know what you did?" she yelled, leaning across the table. The man simply smiled.

"You want it to much, darlin'," he whispered. Sam slowly stepped back and willed herself to calm down. She took a few deep breaths and began to laugh, quietly at first, and then harder. Kyle stared at her, feeling his anger rise.

"What the hell is so funny?" he hissed.

"You! You think you've won? You're goin' to jail, and you can't even admit what you did to a little girl? You act so tough and indifferent, but you're only a coward," she smiled at his reddened face. She was no longer afraid of the man in front of her. She saw him for what he really was.

"You think I'm afraid? You're the one afraid," he growled, leaning forward. Sam smiled and met him halfway.

"Actually, I'm not. You're just a weak excuse of a man that prays on children to get off," she grinned at the vein appearing in his neck.

"You're a lying bitch. I can see it in your eyes. She looked just like you, you know? She even gritted her teeth like you when she was in pain. You know my favorite part? The scream she made when her skin melted under the cigarettes. It was almost like a song," he hissed. His eyes widened at the woman's smug grin. He had just confessed, and the bitch was the one that weaseled it out of him.

"That's all I need to know Mr. Rutland," she turned to leave but was stopped by his voice.

"You can say you aren't afraid, but deep down you know that isn't true. You can never forget me," he smiled, but quickly frowned at her look of defiance.

"Oh, but I assure you, I'm not afraid. You'll be spendin' the rest of your life in jail. You can no longer hurt me. I'll never think of you again after this, but you'll think about me every day. Try not to drop the soap, I hear inmates don't take kindly to baby rapists." she said with fervor. Leaving the evil man sputtering in anger behind her, Sam walked out of the room with her head held high.

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She was immediately embraced by her father as she walked out of the door. She hugged him back, laughing.

"Feel better?" Elliot asked. Sam's face should have broken with the force of her smile.

"Ms. Cragen?" the group turned to the small voice from the doorway. Leena Goodman stood with her hand in her mother's. The detectives quickly glanced at one another and guided the two back to the squad room.

"What's up?" Sam asked, leaning down to Leena's level.

"I heard you caught him?" she asked. Sam smiled at the girl gently.

"Yes, we caught him!" she exclaimed. Leena let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding and threw her arms around her older friend's shoulders. Sam squeezed the girl in a tight hug.

"There's only one thing you have left to do, Leena," Sam said seriously as they released each other.

"Anything!" she replied.

"You're going to have to testify against him in court," she said. Everyone watched as the girl's color drained from her face.

"Will he be there?" she whispered.

"Yes, but he can't hurt you anymore, I promise," Sam grabbed the girl's hands in her own. Leena bit her lip and looked up, a bit of fire in her eyes.

"Are you scared?" she asked.

"No," Sam answered instantly.

"Will you be there?" she asked.

"Every step of the way," Sam promised. Everyone froze as the court officers brought out Kyle to be transported to the holding cell. They waited with baited breath to see the reaction of the young girl.

Leena Goodman stuck her middle finger in the air at the man who could no longer hurt her.

**This chapter is a bit longer than usual! Again, I would like to thank xxxCrybaby11xxx for the kind review, as well as the PMs I received. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and please rate/view/subscribe!**


	7. Hangovers, Tattoos, and Flirting- Oh my!

**HANGOVERS, TATTOOS, AND FLIRTING OH MY!**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own SVU or original characters blahblahblah, I feel as if I've said this before? Hmm..**

John Munch had become accustomed to his nightly analysis of his partner before bed. It had once irked him that he let her invade his thoughts enough to where he couldn't sleep, but he quickly figured out it was futile. So, he accepted it.

Ever since that moment on the roof and in that dungeon-like basement three days ago, he had begun to see his partner in a new light. He knew that her real father had raped her, but he had questions. Such as, where the hell was her mother? What happened to her brother and sister?

_"Tell me, did you enjoy killing your bastard daddy?" _Rutland's words had rang through his head. Did she really kill her father? Hell, he could hardly blame her. He would have killed the son of a bitch. There was something else that bothered him, though. Rutland had called her Dollie.

Why the hell did that name sound so familiar? He had racked his brain for three days now, but couldn't figure out where he had heard it from. Come to think of it, she did look kind of familiar.

John sighed in frustration and shut his eyes. The image of her up on the roof immediately floated in front of his mind's eye. Her hair tangled behind her in the wind and her blue eyes seemed like they could see right through him. John had never seen a woman more beautiful than she.

Everything about her captivated him, from the way she whistled "Freebird," when they were walking down the street, to the way she blushed and looked at her feet when complimented. He admired her for her ability to bond with victims, especially the children. He envied her for the way she got people to open up to her with ease. He respected her for her strength and independence.

He found himself yearning to know more of the mystery that was his partner.

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Elliot laid awake in his bed, starring at the ceiling. His naked wife slept soundly beside him. There was once a time he would trace a finger down her bare side, taking wonder in how her body would be awake and ready before she had woken up. But those days were long gone.

He was at a loss. He had saw brown eyes, instead of Kathy's steely blues tonight. He felt his fingers tangle in thick hair, rather than Kathy's thin blonde locks. He felt her toned body beneath his own, not Kathy's thin frame.

He saw Olivia.

Things had not been the same since that night. He knew he had gone too far. He knew exactly what to say to hurt her most. He had apologized, and she had brushed it off in Liv like fashion. He knew all wasn't forgiven. She didn't meet his eyes. There was no more easy conversation between them on stake-outs. Only silence.

It didn't help matters that he envisioned making love to his partner, rather than his wife.

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"How are you not drunk yet?" Liv laughed as her friend downed her second _potent_ martini. Sam shrugged and reached for another olive.

"I've got a pretty good alcohol tolerance," she said nonchalantly. It was Saturday night and the two friends were drowning the last couple of week's stress away.

"Ya know, if you were to suddenly stop in front of, Elliot, his nose would go up your ass," Sam said as she mixed herself another drink. Liv choked on hers and held her sides in laughter.

"He has been pretty clingy lately, hasn't he?" she said, downing her second drink. She motioned for Sam to make another.

"He better damn well be. I should skin that bastard alive!" Sam growled as she mixed more drinks.

"You think it's his baby?" Liv asked. Sam handed her a drink and took a seat on her kitchen table.

"No, I don't. El didn't had sex with the bitch for seven weeks. Then she just all of a sudden notices that she's pregnant? That's some shit," Sam shook her head and sipped her drink.

"Guess we'll find out in nine months," Liv muttered.

"Shiiiiiiiiiiit. Yous think they'll last nine months?" Sam laughed.

"You don't?" Liv asked, a hopeful tint in her voice.

"Hell naw. I give it a month. Two tops," she predicted. "John gives it two weeks," she smirked.

"Speaking of Munch," Liv said, smiling at her friend's sudden look of a deer caught in the headlights.

"What about 'em?" she asked carefully.

"Oh, don't play dumb. Things are different between you two," Liv said. Sam downed her drink once more.

"What do you mean?" she asked, actually curious.

"I don't know. You two are just different. Almost closer somehow?" Liv said, trying to put it into words.

"I guess we kind of are," Sam said.

"What happened in that basement?" Liv asked. Sam was quiet for a moment.

"I had a little meltdown," she admitted, poking an olive with a toothpick.

"What do you mean?" Liv questioned.

"Oh, for pete's sake!" Sam huffed, color rising in her cheeks. She was never one for girly chitchat. "He held me while I cried and I kissed him on the cheek. No big deal!" she hissed. She crossed her arms over herself and popped an olive in her mouth. Liv laughed at her juvenile attitude.

"Alright, alright! No big deal!" Liv said. A few moments of awkward silence went by before Liv quietly said, "I hear Jews are kinky lovers."

An abrupt smack echoed throughout the apartment.

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Sunday morning found the Stabler family in church. Elliot felt almost guilty being there. He had always fancied himself a man of God, but now he wasn't so sure. Would a holy man fantasize about making love to another woman, rather than his own wife?

After the service, Elliot quietly excused himself to confessional. He took a deep breath and climbed into the small, cramped courters. Father Michael stood on the other side.

"Please forgive me father, for I have sinned. It has been three years since my last confession. These are my sins. Lust, taking another's life, and thoughts of divorce," he bowed his head.

"After three years that's it? Why don't you tell me what's really bothering you, Elliot," Father Michael said quietly.

"I feel like everything's changing," Elliot said.

"With your family?" Father Michael asked.

"My family, my wife. My partner," he answered.

"These feelings of lust and thoughts of divorce come from your partner then?" Father Michael said.

"Yes. She isn't the reason I want a divorce though. What do I do, Father? It's a sin to divorce, but if I stay, I'm only lying to myself and my family," Elliot asked.

"It is a hard situation, my son. The choice is not easy. I cannot tell you what to do, because that it something only you can decide. Pray for guidance and ask for forgiveness of your sins," Father Michael said. Elliot sighed. That didn't help much.

"Thank you father," Elliot said.

"Go in peace my son. _In nomine Patri, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti_," The father blessed. Elliot bowed his head and left the church, in search of his family.

Unfortunately, he ended up finding a swift fist to his jaw first.

"What the hell!" he yelled, wiping blood from his busted lip. A very angry man was standing in front of him with Kathy pulling on his arm.

"Jared! Stop it!" Kathy screamed. Maureen and Kathleen grabbed the twins and dragged them away from the scene.

"That's my baby, you son of a bitch!" he yelled, attempting to punch Elliot once more. Elliot side stepped and kneed the man in the gut.

"What the fuck is he talking about, Kathy? You said you didn't sleep with anyone when we were separated!" He yelled. A small group had surrounded the fight.

"It was only one time. It had been four weeks, I didn't know if you were coming back and I was lonely! Like you didn't sleep with Olivia!" she hissed.

"I didn't. Is that baby mine?" Elliot asked. The man had recovered from the knee to the gut.

"That's my baby. Tell him, Kathy," he growled. Kathy covered her face with her hands.

"I don't know! I won't know until I figure out how many weeks a long I am!" Kathy yelled, throwing her hands up. Elliot stared at the ground, anger boiling in his blood.

"Bye, Kathy," he said. He turned and began walking away.

"Elliot! Wait!" Kathy yelled.

He kept going.

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"Oh my God," Liv moaned, grabbing her head. The afternoon light shining through the bedroom window was blinding. Sam stirred beside her and grabbed her head in similar fashion.

"Light's a little blindin', huh?" she said, getting up to close the blinds.

"Why the hell did you let me drink so much last night?" Liv whined.

"Hey, ain't my fault you got so sloshed. You practically hogged the bottle all night," Sam said. Liv would have had a good come back, but the urge to throw up was becoming more and more urgent. She threw the covers back and ran to the bathroom. Sam sighed and held her friend's hair.

"Want some coffee?" Sam asked after she was done. Liv shook her head yes, still clinging to the toilet.

A few minutes later found the friends strung out over the couch sipping on coffee and chewing aspirins.

"Wanna see if the boys want to get together for dinner?" Sam asked.

"I don't know, things between me and El are kind of strained," Liv said.

"Oh come on, Liv! He's your partner. You two can't be so awkward forever," she pushed. Liv contemplated it. "It's really nice out today.." she urged. Liv rolled her eyes.

"Ok, ok. Get a hold of Munch, and I'll call El," she said. She reached for her phone off the table. Sam left her friend to talk in piece and picked up her own phone to text her partner.

_Hey there partner. Wanna go to lunch with us girls and Stabler?_

** Sure. Where n when?**

_6? The usual?_

**Who's paying?**

_Don't be a mooch!_

**Yes dear. See you at 6.**

Sam sat her phone down and smiled. That man could be insatiable sometimes. Liv came in, a puzzled look on her face. "So? He comin'?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, he's coming. But he sounds pissed?" Liv said. The girls shrugged. "Munch coming?"

"Yes'm. Now, for the important part. What are we gonna wear?" Sam clapped her hands. While she most defiantly wasn't a girly-girl, she did enjoy throwing together a good outfit.

"I just brought a pair of jeans and a t-shirt," Liv said.

"Well that won't do. You can wear my clothes!" Sam grabbed Liv's elbow and led the way to her closet. She threw open the door and began pulling random garments out. "Dress or shorts?" Sam asked.

"Neither, I rather wear jeans," Liv said, eyeing the garments like the plague.

"It's a million degrees outside and in the middle of June. You got nice legs, show 'em off!" Sam encouraged. Liv looked skeptical, but nodded her head in approval. Sam quickly pulled out a sun dress. It was white with bold sun flowers, bikini strapped, and ended at ankle length. Liv gasped and fingered the material.

"It's gorgeous. Are you sure you don't mind if I borrow it?" Liv asked sheepishly.

"Nope! What size shoe you wear?" Sam replied.

"Seven and a half, why?" Liv said.

"Perfect, I do too. This is why," she held up a pair of golden sandals. "This would go perfectly, don't you think?" Liv chuckled and nodded.

"Does this mean I get to pick out your clothes for the day?" Liv asked. Sam shrugged and stepped out of the way. Liv eagerly took her place and rummaged through her friend's wide expanse of a closet. It was new experience having a girl friend to gossip and play dress up with. Liv found she rather it.

"This suits you," she threw the articles of clothing at her friend on the bed. Sam looked through the items. There was a black tank top with Johnny Cash flipping the bird on it and a pair of cut off shorts. Sam raised an eyebrow and smirked.

"Well done, well done," she praised.

"Oh, and wear these," Liv tossed a pair of black converse wedges at her. Again, Sam nodded appreciatively.

An hour later found the friends showered and ready. Liv stared at herself in the mirror. It almost seemed as she was looking at another person. It had been a long while that she had looked like, well a woman. She wasn't used to wearing such feminine clothing.

Sam however could pass for a teenager. Her curly hair cascaded over the red bandana on her forehead. The tight tank top revealed a peek of tattooed stomach and belly ring. That however, didn't hold a candle to the black dragon tattoo that covered her whole left thigh.

"That is crazy!" Liv said motioning to the tattoo. Sam smiled and rubbed over her thigh.

"It's probably my favorite piece of work. Ya know, you should get a tattoo," Sam said.

"I've actually thought about it," she admitted.

"You should," Sam eyed her friend up and down. Liv was downright pretty. "Elliot's gonna flip when he sees you," she said. Liv blushed and waved her hand.

"Me? They're both going to flip when they see that dragon on your leg!" she said.

"Probably. It's the only one John hasn't seen. Well, besides the one on my boob," she said. Liv raised an eyebrow.

"Oh?" Liv raised her eyebrows and smiled mischievously. Sam huffed and punched the woman's arm.

"Not like that. Goodness!" Sam growled. The two grabbed their purses and headed for the door.

"You know what they say about big noses…" Liv started.

Another loud smack echoed throughout the empty apartment.

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"So, the baby isn't yours?" John asked. He and Elliot were waiting patiently for their partners to arrive. In the meantime, Elliot was retelling the lists of events after church.

"No. I'm pretty sure it isn't," Elliot spat. His lip was still throbbing.

"Damn, I'm sorry man," John said. Elliot didn't even hear him. His partner had arrived, and left him speechless. Her hair was tussled and the dress clung to her every curve. She practically glowed. She was beautiful.

John was in much the same state. The last tattoo that he had yet to see(not including the mystery one) was in his full view now. It was of the tribal nature, and hugged her thigh. The creature's eyes were red and menacing. It was the most detailed and intricate tattoo he had ever had the privilege of seeing. His eyes drifted upwards and rested on the delicious sliver of tanned and inked flesh of her stomach. The silver of her belly ring caught the light, and his attention. He could feel himself salivating.

"El, what happened to your lip?" Liv asked as she took a seat beside him.

Shaken out of his reverie, Elliot sighed. "Long story short, Kathy slept with some guy name Jared. He clipped me as I was coming out of church and was yelling about how the baby was his. Kathy said she didn't know, but I'm sure she does. And now here we are." Liv placed a hand on his arm. He met her eyes and was captivated by the warmth he found.

"I'm sorry, El," Liv said sincerely.

"I'm not. You were right. I don't love her. She knows it. What I said that night-"

"It's fine, El. Promise," Liv gave him a genuine smile as she squeezed his arm. He returned the smile. It felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

"Well," Sam said. She cleared her throat. "Now that _that's _over with! Hangovers make me hungry, so can we order now?" she raised an eyebrow at the couple. Elliot rolled his eyes and motioned for the waiter. Each detective gave their orders and handed over menus.

Sam crossed her legs and john surreptitiously glanced at the new tattoo out of the corner of his eye. Did the woman know how tantalizing she was? He was worried he was acquiring a tattoo and piercing fetish.

"That's one hell of a tattoo you got there. You must be addicted to pain or something," Elliot said. Sam rolled her eyes.

"Says the man with a tattoo on his arm!" Sam scoffed. She stuck out her tongue. The rest of the table stared, shocked. "Oh, for pete's sake. It's just a tongue ring you goody-goodies!" she scrunched her nose and took a sip of coke.

"You really are addicted to pain!" Liv teased. The waiter disrupted their conversation long enough to drop off their food.

"How do you eat with that thing?" John asked.

"Like this," Sam took a bite out of her burger.

"Smart ass," John muttered. Sam beamed at him.

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"Well, I think it's time I be getting back home. I still have a DD5 to fill out before tomorrow," Liv said. She noticed Elliot fidget beside her. "Need a place to stay, again?" she asked. The relief on his face was evident.

"I don't want to be a bother…" he started.

"Oh shut up," Liv said as she rolled her eyes. The group stood up and walked outside into the summer night.

"Want me to walk you home?" John offered to his partner. She turned to him and smiled.

"Sure!" she agreed. Then she turned to Liv and El, "No fooling around you two, you got work tomorrow!" she winked, grabbed hands with her snickering partner, and quickly walked away before Liv could give her a good deck to the arm.

"That was great!" John chuckled.

"She's gonna beat the shit out of me tomorrow," Sam said amused.

"I wouldn't doubt it! I'll take pictures," he teased. He laughed at the look of feigned hurt on her face. She released his hand and crossed her arms.

"Some partner you are!" she pouted. John grabbed her hand and pulled her close to his side once more.

"Just kidding, I'd save you," he smiled at her pretty little blush and held tightly to her hand, making sure it wouldn't leave his again.

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"Oh, sweet relief!" Liv moaned as she slid off the dainty golden sandals. She rubbed her aching feet. "They sure are pretty, but it felt like I was walking on cardboard!"

"You looked good today," Elliot said suddenly from beside her.

"Really? I felt ridiculous," she said, not meeting her eyes.

"No, really. You looked beautiful," he said. Liv smiled and twiddled her thumbs.

"Tsk, tsk. A married man shouldn't be complimenting another woman!" she teased.

"I won't be for long. I stopped by the court house on the way to the diner. I already got the divorce papers. They're in my desk back at the squad room," he said. Liv raised her eyebrows.

"Already? Are you positive the baby isn't yours?" she asked.

"Yeah. I'm pretty sure. Kathy would have to already be ten weeks along if it was mine, and I'm sure she isn't that far," he sighed.

"I'm sorry things ended up the way it did, El," Liv said. She took her hand in her own.

"I'm glad it's over with," he replied, giving her hand a little squeeze. Liv yawned and rubbed her eyes with her free hand. "You should get some sleep. You got to get that hangover knocked out before tomorrow."

"Yeah, I guess I should. You left a few of your clothes here, there in the trunk under the window. You know where the blankets are, and as always, make yourself at home. You're welcome to everything in my house, except the chocolate bar in the fridge, that's mine," she said seriously. Elliot chuckled and waved her on.

"I remember the last time I ate your chocolate, trust me, I won't make that mistake again!" he shuddered remembering the stern yelling he got.

"Good! Night, El, sleep tight," she said at her bedroom doorway.

"Night Livvy!" he smirked at her annoyed growl. She hated that nickname.

**This chapter was a little slow, I realize, but I had to get those important details out there! So sorry, bear with me! Thank you as always to the wonderful xxxcrybaby11xxx, you're amazing!(: Next chapter, we'll bring in Odafin Tutuola! And maybe we'll see a romance bloom? Subscribe/Comment purtty please! **


	8. Unfamiliar Territory

**UNFAMILIAR TERRITORY**

**DISCLAIMER: Don't own, yadayada**

"My eyes are up here, John," Sam giggled as he unashamedly heightened his gaze back to her eyes.

"Not my fault, you're the one that chooses to wear barely there tank tops," he griped, quickly glancing down and up again.

"I can put my vest back on if you like?" she reached for her vest lying behind her.

"No, no. No need for that," he said. He rather liked the view.

"Good, because it's rather warm out here!" She emphasized her point by fanning herself with a folder. The two were at their hide away on the roof working on case files. The weather was stifling today, and the air condition was broken in the building, so the detectives opted for outdoors. At least there was the occasional breeze.

"Just warm?" John scoffed. He pushed his sleeves up and wiped sweat from his brow. Sam made a tsking noise with her tongue.

"You Yanks wouldn't last two minutes in the South. You think this is hot? Try plowing fields all day in overalls and work boots. Then tell me it's hot!" she shook her head and opened another file.

"Well excuse me, Farmer Brown," he said with an eye roll.

"That's Missus Farmer Brown to you!" she stuck her tongue out at him. He returned the gesture and picked up another file.

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"Damn, Papa C, is it always this hot in here?" Odafin Tutuola said as he loosened his tie. He made himself at home in Cragen's office, propping his feet up on the desk to mimic the older man in front of him. They each had twizzlers sticking out of their mouths and hands behind their heads.

"The AC's broken. And don't call me Papa C in my place of business," he pointed his twizzler at him.

"Fine, fine. You tell Dollie I'm here?" he asked. Cragen shook his head.

"Nah, figured we'd surprise her. Don't call her Dollie around the others, though," he said seriously.

"You mean, she hasn't told anybody?" Fin asked. The playfulness of earlier seemed to dissipate.

"No. Her partner knows some. I don't think anyone's figured out who she was yet," Cragen replied. He ran a hand over his forehead.

"They're gonna figure out sometime, Don," Fin said

"I know, she's just dreading it. It's hard to air out all your dirty laundry," Cragen said. Fin nodded.

"Believe me, I know," Fin said. They both were quiet for a while, each lost in their own thoughts. Cragen chuckled and shook his head.

"She's gonna flip when she sees you."

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"Shew-wee! It's hotter than a billy goat in a pepper patch in here!" Sam said as she and her partner entered the squad room. Her coworkers smirked at her southern twang.

"If they don't show up to fix that damned air conditioner soon, I'm gonna melt!" Liv whined. She drooped over her desk.

"I don't see why they're paying to fix it. I'm sure I could fix the thing," Sam said. Elliot snickered and elbowed her in the side.

"Why get a professional when the redneck can do it?" he smiled as she nodded her head.

"Damn straight!" she elbowed him back.

"If you think you can fix it, be my guest!" Don said as he walked out of his office. Sam turned to her father in surprise.

"You serious? You don't mind?" she asked.

"Why would I mind? You're the handiest person I know with power tools," he said. Sam smiled at the praise.

"Hell, yeah! I'll have it up n' runnin' in ten minutes!" she said enthusiastically. She turned to leave, but was stopped by the sound of her father's voice.

"Before you go, I think all of you should know I filled the last opening on the squad," he looked at his daughter with eyes full of mirth. "I almost didn't hire him, because I wasn't sure I could handle the terrible duo under the same roof. And I am going to warn you right now, Samantha Lydia Jones Cragen, if I find a single stick pin in my chair, or hot sauce in my coffee, I'm going to fire both of you!" he warned. Sam raised her eyebrows.

"Who is it daddy?" she asked curiously. Instead of answering, he motioned to his office doorway.

"Odey!" Sam screamed and ran towards him. He picked her up and spun her around.

"How ya doing, Dolls? Almost didn't recognize you without red hair!" he said. She squeezed him again and was smiling so hard, her face felt as if it would break.

John eyed the new comer with distaste. He felt that familiar knot of jealousy in the pit of his stomach.

"Care to introduce us to your friend?" Elliot said.

"Oh," she released him and placed a hand around his arm. "Guys, meet Odafin Tutuola!"

"Olivia Benson, nice to meet you Tutu-uh, what was that again?" Liv said as she shook his hand.

"Just call me Fin," he smiled. Liv nodded.

"Hey, Elliot Stabler," Elliot said as he shook his hand. Fin nodded and turned to the elder detective.

"John Munch," he said simply. He didn't make a move to shake the man's hand. Sam gave her partner a chastising glare and rolled her eyes.

"Forgive my partner, he forgets how to be civil sometimes," she gave him another glare. "Come help me fix the AC, Odey!" she began leading him down to the boiler room.

"Glady, it's hotter than hell in here!" Fin said.

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"So, what's new with you, sug? How's Terri? And my godson?" Sam asked as she pulled out a screwdriver.

"I wouldn't know," he took a seat on the ground.

"Odey…" she had a warning tone in her voice.

"I know, I know. I guess I just stayed away too much. Terri divorced me and Ken grew up all of a sudden. That's why I joined the force," he sighed and shook his head.

"Oh, bull shit, Odey. I know you too well after all these years. It wasn't the work that kept you away. You liked running those streets more than playing daddy and loving husband," she said as she unscrewed the faceplate to the air unit.

"Yeah, maybe," he admitted. He didn't know whether he liked how she could see right through him or not.

"Ain't no maybe to it. You know you partied back in the day. Shit, you spent more time with me than you did with Terri," she said. She cursed quietly at the fresh cut on her finger.

"I never claimed to be a great father or husband," he said defensively.

"Oh, chill out. I ain't calling you a bad father or a bad husband. I'm just sayin', you don't have anyone to blame but yourself," she said.

"Yeah, yeah. Enough with my beef, what's up with this squad?" he asked.

"They're straight. Liv and El have got this thing goin' on," she smirked.

"Do tell," Fin leaned in.

"Long story short, El is in the process of divorcin' his bitch wife, Kathy. El's currently kickin' it with Liv. Let's just say, something's gonna pop off soon," she wiggled her eyebrows at him. She grunted and turned back to her work, finally finding the burnt out wire. "Hand me those pliers, would ya?" Fin handed them over with a nod.

"Well what about you?" he asked. Sam faltered in her movements for a split second.

"What ya mean?" she asked nonchalantly.

"Don't think I don't know what's going on. I've never seen that look on your face before," he said. Sam willed herself not to blush.

"What look?" she asked.

"When you and him were coming into the squad room. You had this look on your face. I've never seen you look so comfortable around a guy, not even me," he squinted at her blush.

"He's my partner. Of course I'm comfortable with him," she said. She knew he was grinning at her pathetic attempt at lying.

"Yeah, see this bull shit stuff goes both ways. I know when you're lying through your teeth," he chuckled at her embarrassed huff.

"Alright, fine. It's different somehow," she trailed off, not knowing how to continue.

"Go on?" he pushed. Sam scrunched her eyebrows in serious thought.

"Shit, how should I know? I've never had a boyfriend, Odey," she grumbled.

"That may be true. But one thing I do know, he looks at you the same way," he said. Sam turned to him, a serious look on her face.

"Really?" she asked quietly.

"Yeah. I mean, hell, I thought he was gonna rip my balls off just because you were hugging me," he said. Sam laughed as she screwed the faceplate back on. She flipped the switch and smiled at the whir of the air rushing through the vents. The two shared a fist bump of victory as Sam took a seat beside him on the floor.

"You really think so?" she asked. She pulled her knees to her chest and hugged them. She'd never really talked about anything of the romantic sorts before.

"Why wouldn't he be interested, girl? You're sexier than hell, got an ass that rivals J Lo, and the voice of an angel," he said. Sam giggled and punched his arm lightly.

"Actually he's never heard me sing," she said. Fin looked at her surprised.

"How's that possible? You can't go a day without singing," he shook his head.

"I haven't sung publicly since I went under the radar," she admitted. Fin frowned and put an arm over her shoulders. "Couldn't take the chance of someone recognizing me," she sighed and leaned her head back on his arm. "I guess that's why I'm scared of this whole John thing," she whispered.

"Why's that?" he asked.

"He's got this whole idea in his head that most women are whores. What's he going to think when he finds out about my Dollie side?" she asked.

"Sam," she turned her attention sharply to him. Fin never called her by her real name. "You did all that to take care of your brother and sister," he said sternly.

"Maybe," she sounded unconvinced, "But the drugs and the 'accident'?" she sighed and looked down at the ground.

"He's your partner, for better or worse. He either accepts it, or he won't. If he don't, then he isn't worth it, is he?" he rubbed her shoulder. She gave him a small smile and nodded her head. Fin moved to stand up and held out a hand for her to take.

"Guess you're right. I'm really glad you're here, Odey. This romance stuff is confusing as hell," she said as he pulled her to her feet.

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John eyed his partner and the new detective as they entered the room. Sam met his eyes, but quickly looked away. He was slightly perplexed to see a tiny blush on her cheeks.

"I love you so much right now," Liv shouted from across the room. She was standing over a vent in the floor, basking in the cold air flowing from it. Elliot playfully pushed her off and took the vent for himself. A shoving match presumed soon after.

"Alright, children, there's plenty of air to go around," Cragen said sternly. The two detectives playfully glared at each other before walking(rather closely) back to their desks. "As for you," he turned his attention to Fin. "Let's get some paperwork out of the way, then we'll get you a desk, alright?" he motioned for Fin to follow. Fin did as he was instructed, albeit unhappily. He hated paperwork with a passion.

"So, how you know the new guy?" John asked. Sam got a cigarette out of her drawer and motioned for her partner to follow. They walked in silence, side by side to the roof.

"We used to run together back in the day," she finally answered as she took a deep drawl. She sighed at the look on his face. "Not like that, John! We met when I was thirteen. He sort of took me under his wing, I guess you could say. I was out on my own, taking care of my brother and sister, running from my dad. He helped me find work and gave me bread when I couldn't afford to get my kids anything to eat," she paused and took another drag from her cigarette. "He was there through some tough shit. Odey's kind of like that older brother I always needed growing up," she sighed and finished off her cancer stick in one long tug of air.

"Damn," John said. He inspected his partner. Just how much about this woman was there to know? "You took care of two little kids on your own at just thirteen?" he asked in awe.

"Yeah. Had to, I couldn't keep em' in that damn apartment anymore. So, I packed as much as I could carry, put Davie on my hip, grabbed Cassie and ran," her eyes were watching memories far away. John was speechless.

"Can I ask one more question?" he asked quietly. Sam nodded. "Rutland called you Dollie when we raided his house, and now Fin did too. Why did they call you that?" he asked. He watched as her stomach fell through the floor. She stiffened and looked up at the passing clouds. This was the moment she had been dreading. John watched her struggle with whatever internal battle she was having.

"I rather we save that discussion for another time, if that's ok?" she whispered, finally turning her gaze from the sky to his brown eyes. John nodded and held her gaze.

"You're something else, ya know that?" he said.

Sam furrowed her eyebrows and said, "What do you mean?" He stepped forward, making her heart do a little jump at the close proximity.

"I can't figure you out is all. You've got all these layers, and just when I think I'm getting to the center, I realize I've only just begun peeling. You're a mystery Ms. Cragen," he said. Sam heard her heartbeat in her ears, and vaguely wondered if he could hear it too.

"I'm not so sure you'd want to know all of this mystery, Mr. Munch," she replied. He slowly laced an arm around her waist and drew her to him.

"I think I should be the judge of that, say over dinner?" he said quietly. Sam placed her hands on his chest and looked up at him.

"You askin' me out on a date, partner?" she asked.

"And if I am?" He moved his face closer to hers. The hot breath against her lips made her shiver.

"I guess you're going to have to peel away layers over dinner, then," she whispered breathlessly. He smiled briefly before cupping her cheek with his free hand. Her breath halted as he closed the gap between them. Her eyes closed as firm lips met her own.

They parted slowly, brown eyes staring fondly into blue. She blushed and hid her face in his chest, stifling giggles.

"I didn't think I was that rusty?" John teased. Sam looked up and shook her head.

"No, no! It's just, that was sorta, kinda my first kiss," she admitted, her cheeks aflame.

"Liar!" he accused. He raised an eyebrow at her embarrassed look.

"No, really! I've never had a real boyfriend, come to think of it. Guess I really had no use for that kind of stuff before now," she said honestly.

"I find it hard to believe that a woman of your beauty and nature has never had a boyfriend," he said skeptically.

"Well, it ain't like there wasn't offers. I guess everything that went on when I was younger kind of made me jaded," she admitted quietly. John sighed and tucked a loose curl behind her ear. She leaned into his touch and felt her heart throb as he bent down to kiss her once more. She noted that he tasted spicy, like cinnamon almost.

"You're one hell of a woman, Samantha Lydia Jones Cragen," he whispered against her lips. Her arms looped around his neck and he took the opportunity to kiss her once more.

He could get used to kissing his partner.

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Liv knew the second the two partners entered the room that something had changed. Their hands seemed to linger around each other, the occasional fingers linking together. Sam blushed sweetly and smiled at the floor as her partner talked quietly in her ear.

Oh yes, things had defiantly shifted from a professional relationship to one of the romantic variety.

She wasn't the only one that noticed it, so it seemed. The new comer gave Sam a brief wink from his position at his new desk. Sam gave him a dazzling smile and winked back.

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To say Samantha Cragen was a tight wad of pent of energy was an understatement. She was currently attempting to calm her nerves with a tall glass of wine. The day's events had taken her for a spin. Never in her life had she ever felt such a pull to another person before.

The thought of intimacy, in any form, was new to her. Her childhood and early adulthood had left her jaded and scornful in that aspect. Anything associated with sex in the slightest disgusted her, but now?

She wasn't so sure.

It wasn't like she wouldn't know what to do with it once she had it. She wasn't naïve, she knew what men wanted. She just couldn't grasp the 'feeling good' aspect of it all. In her experiences, situations like that only brought pain and feelings of humiliation. Sure, she knew it wasn't supposed to be like that, but that's all she knew.

She sighed and began to pace. She felt a bit ridiculous, feeling so anxious over a phone call. She had talked to her partner thousands of times over the phone, but this was different. The way her heart felt like it was in her throat could tell her that much. She sighed and took a sip of wine.

The feelings that ran through her when he kissed her were enough to make her breathing completely stop. Just the thought of it made her stomach twist in knots and a wide grin break over her face. For once, the idea of being pressed up against a man didn't disturb her. She rather liked the idea of being pressed together, skin against skin, firm lips on her-

'_Whoa there, girl!'_ she stopped herself from continuing that line of thought. Shaking her head of remaining images, she downed the rest of her wine with a girlish giggle. Her giggles were cut short by the shrill ring her phone playing her partner's ringtone, 'American Idiot.' She stared at it for a moment, her jumble of nerves seeping back to the surface.

She growled at herself and grabbed her phone. This was John she was talking about. Her partner for pete's sake! Why should she be nervous? She took a deep breath and answered.

"I was beginning to think you weren't going to call," she said.

"Anxious are we?" he teased. He smiled as he could all but hear the scowl she was surely making.

"Maybe a little," she admitted. She was indeed scowling.

"Not having second thoughts, are you?" he asked.

"No!" she answered quickly, immediately blushing at her quick response. John chuckled on the other end.

"Good. Do you like Thai food?" he asked.

"Uh, I don't know? Never had it," she answered.

"It's really good. It's like a mix between Indian food and Chinese food," he said.

"Sounds good!" she replied.

"Glad you think so, because I made reservations at _Green Basil_ tomorrow night for 8 o'clock," he smiled at her gasp.

"Ain't that that new, fancy place that just opened on Lexington?" she asked.

"Yeah, I know the receptionist, so he squeezed us in," he sounded a bit smug.

"John, that's really expensive. I'm fine with just going to McDonalds!" she exclaimed, mortified he would spend so much money on her.

"So you don't want to go?" he couldn't keep the hint of disappointment from his voice.

"No, I mean, I'd love to go! I just don't want you to spend so much money on little 'ol me," she said shyly.

"I want to," he said sternly. Sam didn't even attempt to wipe the grin from her face.

"Ok, if you're sure," she unconsciously twirled a curl around her finger.

"I'm sure," he replied.

"Ya know, I could have sworn you once told me you'd never date a coworker?" she smirked.

"I don't recollect ever saying that, madam," he said. Sam could hear the lie in his voice.

"Mmm, no. I'm pretty sure I remember you saying that, sir," she smiled at the image of him pouting on the other line.

"Nope, I'm sure you misheard me or something."

"John?"

"Huh?"

"You suck at lying."

**Sorry this chapter took so long guys! Really hope you enjoyed it! Next chapter we'll get into the date, and almost all of Sam's past will be revealed! As usual, thank you so much **_**to xxxcrybaby11xxx**_** for your wonderful feedback and ideas! I would also like to thank **_**sydny slams saki**_** for your review as well! I'm glad you guys like my story so far!** **As always, reviews (both good and bad) and ideas are always welcome! **


	9. Past Reality

**Past Reality**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything….dur.**

Sam checked her appearance for what felt like the millionth time that night. It was ten minutes until eight, and she was a nervous wreck on the inside. She had no idea what to expect, and quite frankly, she really wished she had gotten a bit more sleep last night. She and John had stayed on the phone until about three in the morning. They talked about everything from their mutual hate of Jay Leno, to the best superhero of all time, simply because neither of them wanted to hang up.

Not to mention she had tossed and turned long after they had said their reluctant goodbyes. She felt like a kid on Christmas, too excited to sleep. The sun was coming up before she finally passed out. She began to pace back and forth in her living room, fussing with a stray curl and attempting to stop the butterflies invading her stomach.

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John took a deep breath as he reached his partner's door. He straightened his tie and looked down at the single sunflower clutched in his hand. He knew they were her favorite, and he was nothing if not a romantic. With one last calming breath, he rang her doorbell. The sight before him left him stunned.

His partner was in a midnight blue, strapless dress. It was tight and clung to the curves of her body and her shapely legs. It fell to a loose bunch at her feet. Her curls were pinned up and a few loose curls framed her face and fell down her neck. She had a sheer matching blue wrap around her shoulders. She had to be the sexiest woman on the planet.

"Wow," he said breathlessly. She smiled shyly at the ground.

"Not over dressed, am I?" she asked a bit self-consciously.

"No, you look beautiful," he said, finally recovering his voice. She gave him a brilliant smile and moved closer.

"Thank you, you look rather dashing yourself. This for me?" she motioned at the sunflower.

"No, I thought it'd go with my suit. What you think?" he held it up against his dress jacket and wiggled his eyebrows. "Be honest, does it make my ass look big?" Sam giggled and took the flower from him.

"John, nothing could make your boney ass look big," she teased. She laughed at his faked pout. "Let me put this in some water, and we'll go?" She was back in less than a minute.

"Call a taxi, or walk? It's only a few blocks," John asked.

"It's nice out, let's walk," she said. John shrugged and laced an arm around her silk clad waist. She leaned into him unconsciously. He wondered if she knew just how beautiful she really looked. He couldn't deny he loved every single look of envy and hatred that was thrown his way by passing males.

"You get any sleep last night?" he asked.

"Not really. You?" she asked. John gave her a knowing smirk.

"Nope. So I put on an old record of Bob Dylan, ya know, since he's so much better than Johnny Cash," he laughed as she swatted him hard in the chest. Johnny Cash was one her buttons that he loved to frequently press.

"Johnny Cash is a million time better than Bob Dylan and you know it," she growled.

"If you say so," he added quietly, "But you're wrong," he yelped as she pinched him in the side.

"Am not, you are," she looked up at him with an eyebrow raised in challenge, and a scowl on her face.

"Yes dear," he kissed her gently on her nose. She smiled and pressed herself closer to his side, satisfied with her victory.

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"What in the hell is ka-ing, uh," she huffed in aggravation and showed him her menu and pointed. "This stuff."

"Ah, _kaeng phet pet yang._ It's roasted duck in a curry," he said.

"Oh, I like duck! I want that! Jasmine tea sounds good, too," she said. John smiled at her enthusiasm and whistled over the waiter.

"_kaeng phet pet yang _for the lady, and _Tom yam kung nam khon _for myself. And two glasses of jasmine tea, please," he said with fluency. The waiter nodded his head, took the menus, and quickly exited to the kitchen.

John inspected his date for the night. She looked like a kid in a candy store. Her head was constantly whipping from side to side as she took in as much as her eyes allowed. The twinkle in her eyes seemed to rival the extravagant chandelier light above them. She caught his amused smile and anxiously tucked a curl behind her ear.

"So, what you think?" he asked.

"Oh, it's beautiful! Smells good, too," she said. She emphasized her point by inhaling deeply.

"It's all the spices they use," he agreed and took an appreciative whiff. "Though, I don't see how they're still getting their ingredients with this new taxation law," he said bitterly.

"Conspiracy," Sam said under her breath. She smirked at his defensive look.

"It's no conspiracy, my friend. It's a cold hard fact," he stated. Sam rolled her eyes.

"_Facts_ my butt. You have a conspiracy theory for everything, my dear," she said. She raised an eyebrow at the look of mischief that passed over his face.

"So, say I have a conspiracy theory about where that last tattoo is?" he said. He leaned forward and gazed at her over his glasses. Sam smiled slyly and bent forward, giving him a view of her ample cleavage.

"Sorry, that's a secret," she batted her long eyelashes and ran a foot up his calf under the table. He raised an eyebrow and sucked in a deep breath. She smirked, knowing the effect she had on him. She giggled huskily and leaned back in her seat when she saw the waiter approach with their food.

The waiter quickly handed off their bowls and cups of steaming tea, bowed his head, and disappeared just as quickly as he had come. Sam slowly brought a steaming bite to her mouth, marveling the smell of it.

"Ohhhhh my God," she moaned, eyes closing in pleasure, "This has got to be the most amazing thing I have ever tasted in my entire life," she said. John smiled as he sipped on his own soup.

"I take it, you like it?" he asked. She moaned in response.

"What's yours?" she asked, eyeballing the tiny, shrimp-like morsels in his soup.

"_Tom yam kung nam khon. _It's got coconut milk in it, some chilies, and some prawns. Wanna try a bite?" he held up a spoonful. She eyed it skeptically.

"I dunno," her eyes rested on a prawn head in the bowl.

"Don't worry, I won't give you the head," he chuckled, wiggling the spoon. She hesitated, but finally leaned forward and opened her mouth. John laughed as she immediately scrunched her nose and made a look of pure disgust. She swallowed thickly and chugged at her jasmine tea.

"Sweet Jesus, how the hell do you eat that?" she gasped between gulps of tea. "Ew!"

"I thought you liked sea food?" he teased. Her nose was still scrunched in disgust as she eyed his bowl with new found hatred.

"_That_ is not seafood, John," she stated seriously, taking a bit of her own food now.

"Sure it is," he cracked open the prawn head and ate the meat inside to make his point. "See?" he laughed again at her slack jawed expression.

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"That was amazing," Sam said as she leaned her head on her partner's shoulder. The two were walking leisurely through the streets taking in the night air.

"Oh, you mean beside my delicious soup?" he teased. Sam involuntarily shivered in disgust.

"Ok, everything was amazing _except_ that," she reiterated. John chuckled and ran his hand over her hip. Her content sigh was one of the sweetest noises he had ever heard. "Know what could make it better?" she asked, looking up at him.

"What's that?" he replied.

"Chocolate," she smiled widely at his disbelieving groan.

"I swear, I think you could live off chocolate, woman," he said. He thought for a moment and said, "I've got stuff to make banana splits at my place, if you're interested?" he asked. She looked up at him, surprised.

She hesitated a moment before she smiled softly and said, "Okay." John smiled and kissed her lightly on the lips.

"You don't have to, if you don't want to, ya know," he said quietly.

"I want to," she said sternly. She sighed, "And there's plenty we still have to talk about, right?" she glanced up at him, knowing he would know what she was referring to.

"You sure you're up to it?" he asked. She sighed and halted their walking. She turned to him and looked him in the eye.

"Look, I'm not sure exactly what this is," she motioned between them, "but I know I want it to work. Which means no secrets, right?" she asked. John nodded and pressed his lips against hers in a lingering kiss. She relaxed into his touch and gripped the front of his shirt. When they pulled apart, he had a smirk on his lips.

"So, no secrets, right?" he asked. He took her by the hip and they resumed their slow stride.

"Yeah?" she asked wearily. She knew where this was going.

"That means you should tell me where that last tat-"

"No."

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"You're going to die of a chocolate overload someday," John said as he watched his partner in amusement. She was sprawled out on his couch, sucking off the last remnants of chocolate syrup from her fingers. John mentally groaned at the slight twitch in his pants.

"I'd be alright with that!" she replied. She hiked her dress up to her knees and leaned against his shoulder. He gladly drew her to him and placed a hand on her knee.

"So," he started. Sam felt a knot in her stomach appear, as she knew what was coming next. She met his expectant gaze and frowned.

"I'm scared," she admitted.

"Of what?" he asked.

"What you'll think of me," she whispered. She bit her lip in a sign of nervousness.

"Hey, partners for better or worse, right?" he said as he stroked her knee. She looked at him intently, her eyes seeming to look through him, rather than at him. After a moment she hesitantly nodded and released a deep breath.

"It's a long story," she said.

"We've got all night," he pushed.

"Alright, alright," she said dejectedly. She settled herself deeper into his side and planted her eyes on her lap. "As you know, Don isn't my real father. I was born on a farm in Tennessee. My mom's name was Neela, which means 'blue eyes'. She would have been full Cherokee, except Grammy was white," she said.

"So that's where you get that tan and high cheekbones from," John said in revelation. He took a moment to trace a finger down her cheek, secretly delighted by the hitch in her breath.

Sam nodded and continued, "Yeah, my mom was the first generation that wasn't raised on the reservation. She was also the first from papaw's side to have blue eyes, thus the name Neela. When Mom was sixteen, she met Don. They fell in love, but papaw didn't like him, so he said Mama couldn't see him anymore. That's when papaw introduced mama to Charles, my real father. She kept seeing Don in secret while she was dating Charles. Well, Charles found out and he called the police on him. Don was eighteen, so they arrested him. Instead of serving a sentence, he went into the army. A week later after he left, Mama found out she was pregnant with me, and was forced to marry Charles."

"So, Don knew your mom?" he said.

"Yeah, they were each other's first love," she continued, "She was planning on running away with him, but she couldn't because she got pregnant with me. She decided she wanted to keep me, so she stayed and married my bastard daddy. Everything was normal in the beginning. I have a few good memories, like picking wild flowers with mama, or the first time Charles let me sit on his lap when he drove the tractor," she trailed off for a second, lost in shallow memories.

"Then he started drinking when I was around four. He would yell and push, but he never hit on me. He hit mama though. She'd go into town with bruises and say that an old mule had kicked her or something stupid like that. I remember hiding upstairs in my room with my puppy, Lollie. She would hide under the covers with me and lick my fingers," she smiled fondly at the memory, "Then, a couple days after my fifth birthday, mama told us that she was pregnant. For a long while, everything went back to normal. Charles didn't hit mom, and he even stopped drinking," she silenced for a moment. Her brow furrowed as her face took on a look of concentration.

"Have you ever got that feeling that something bad was about to happen?" she asked. She continued at his nod, "There was this one night that I couldn't get to sleep because I _knew_ something was going to happen. It was really late when my father came in. I could tell by the way he slammed the door and stomped that he was drunk. He started walking up the stairs, and I counted the steps- eleven in all. It took three steps afterwards to get to his bedroom, but he kept going, and I knew that something was wrong," she had a faraway look in her eyes, "I hid under the covers when I heard my doorknob turn and I pretended to be asleep. He crawled into the bed with me and kept whispering how pretty I was and how much I looked like my mom," her voice wavered and she shut her eyes, "That was the first time he ever raped me. I was only five." John's grip tightened on his partner's shoulder. He stared intently at her, watching as her eyes slowly drifted open.

"He raped me almost every night up until Cassandra was born," she smiled then, "She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. She had curly black hair and brown eyes like papaw. I don't think I ever loved anything more than I did Cassie when she was born. I was protective of Case the minute she was born. I never left him alone with Charles, ever. When Cassie was a year old, they threw away her crib, and she started sharing a bed with me, which deterred my dad for a while. But he started coming back after a while. I'd put Cassie in the corner of the room with Lollie Dog. It's like she knew, even when she was that little, to stay quiet. She would never cry or anything if she was awake, she'd lay still. Afterwards, we'd cuddle in the bed, like nothing happened. It went on like that for a long time, eventually Cassie would know when to automatically get up and hide in the corner," she paused and took a deep breath. John sat, shell-shocked. The thought of being raped by your _father _was bad enough, but having your little sister watch from the corner?

"Why didn't your mother do anything?" he asked. Sam shrugged.

"I guess as long as it wasn't her being raped and smacked around, it was ok," she said it without the anger he had anticipated. "Anyway, when I was nine, mom got pregnant with David. Everything eased up for a while because Charles was excited to finally have a boy in the family. His excitement was short lived though. Davey was born with an acute case of COPD. Davey couldn't do anything other little boys could do like sports and such, because it could send him into repertory arrest. He basically had written Davey off as his son.

Davey shared our room as well in a crib beside our bed. When dad came in, Cassie would get Davie and go to her corner. He was quiet, just like Cassie had been. By this time, mom had basically begun living in her bedroom. She only came out to make dad's supper. I had all but become the mother of my brother and sister by the time I was ten. I was the one that fed them and got them ready for school. Mom didn't even give Davey his medicine. I was the one that made sure he took his pills, and I was the one that sat up with him at night when he had an episode," she said. She paused rearranged her legs.

"Then daddy dearest decided we were going to leave for New York, and that's where all the fun begins. Dad got into selling drugs, and then got into selling me. Kyle Rutland was just one of the sick fuck's he decided to do business with," she said with a hint of malice, "That's how life went until I turned thirteen," her voice had taken on a more serious attribute. John felt a coil of gross anticipation forming in his gut.

"One night, I had just got the kids to bed when I heard my mom yell. I snuck around the corner and Charles had her pressed against the wall in a chokehold. She saw me and gave me a tiny little smile. Then she went all limp, and I knew he had killed her," she finished in a whisper. The look she gave him was best described as _haunting_. He cupped her chin in his hand and stroked her cheek with his thumb. She slowly began to relax into his touch and gave him a slight smile, appreciative of his silent reassurance.

"After that, I knew we couldn't stay there anymore. So, I put Davey on my hip, and got Cassie and we ran. That's when I met Fin," she looked at him and smiled, "He was this little punk-ass thug back in the day. He was on a street corner, handing out fliers for this new strip club. We got to talkin', and he told me he could get me hired on since I looked older than I was," she looked down at her lap in shame, "So I became a stripper at thirteen. I saved up over the next couple of months and got an apartment. Eventually I got into more upbeat bars and shows, and ended up in burlesque. That's when everyone realized I could sing pretty well. People wanted to book me for shows, and Fin sort of became my manager. That's when Dollie was created," she said. John gasped in surprise as he finally pieced the puzzle together.

"Wait, Dollie as in the red head that played at all the high end shows back in the day?" he asked. Sam played with her fingers and bit her lip.

"Yeah," she said quietly.

"I actually saw one of your shows!" he said in shock. Memories of a drunken night in a New York bar came to his mind's eye. It had been after his second divorce hearing, and he had went to the nearest bar to get drunk as quickly as possible. Halfway to achieving that goal, a red headed woman had taken a spot on the stage, immediately capturing every male's attention in the room. When she opened her mouth to sing, the entire building held their breath in anticipation. The woman's voice had immediately captured him, it was deep, sensual. If Sex had a singing voice, it would belong to that woman. And that woman was currently sitting on his couch eyeing him wearily.

"Oh?" she said. There was no hiding the hint of fear in her voice. She was praying it wasn't a show that involved her sliding down a pole.

"Yeah! It was at _La Noir_ in Queens. You were in this black cocktail dress, singing the blues," he said, still seeing her image in his head.

"You remember the dress I was wearing?" she asked, smirking. He fought the color rising in his cheeks. Yes, he remembered very well. Images of her in that form fitting dress haunted his dreams for months. But he'd never tell her that.

"You looked nice with red hair," he pathetically attempted to change the subject.

"Yeah? I kind of miss it," she blushed and twirled a finger around a loosened curl. John smiled at the almost childish innocence she was showing.

"So, if you were in the high end of the entertainment business, why did you become a cop?" he asked. Sam frowned and stared at her lap once more.

"I wasn't always at the high end. Before I got into burlesque and fancy bars, I was just a regular stripper. Eventually, a few investors from bars heard me sing, and started hiring me on for bigger shows," she hesitated then, "That end of the entertainment business isn't all it's cracked up to be. I mean, obviously as your everyday stripper, some customers won't leave it at just a lap dance," she shuddered. John heard her hidden meaning loud and clear. "The higher up you go, however, clients aren't so much an issue. It's the employers. Especially, since most of the big wigs back then were drug dealers. You couldn't necessarily say no…" she trailed off with a bite of her lip.

"They raped you?" he asked, though he knew the answer. She gave him a wry smile and nodded.

"Yes, but there wasn't much I could do. I had to take care of the kids, and they provided protection for my family from my father," she rubbed a tired hand over her face. They sat in silence then. The longer it went on, the longer she seemed to squirm. As if he sensed her discomfort, he took her hand his and rubbed a thumb soothingly over he knuckles. She slowly looked up and was surprised to the amount of warmth in his brown eyes.

"You're one strong woman," he said quietly. Sam scoffed and quickly looked away.

"Yeah, it takes a real woman to dance naked and let guys fuck you back stage," she sneered. She gasped as John roughly pulled her chin to get her to look at him. There was a look of angered sincerity on his face; it was actually starting to intimidate her.

"You did what you had to do to keep your brother and sister alive. And you didn't let men _fuck_ you. You were raped," his voice was low, almost a growl.

"It doesn't matter. I let them die anyway," her voice broke, betraying her feigned defiant front. John released his harsh grip on her chin and tenderly swiped a curl from her forehead. He could tell everything she had told him thus far was leading up to what was next.

"Why's that?" his voice was barely audible. She grasped his hand in her own and focused on how they seemed to complement each other.

"It was my sixteenth birthday," she began, "I went out to go get Davie's medicine. I actually didn't have to get it on that day, but the kids kept pushing me to go get it to get me out of the house. I knew they had used the money they saved up to make me a cake and wanted me out of the house so they could throw me a surprise party. So, I left. I was only gone thirty minutes," she stopped, feeling the stinging of her eyes beginning already. John squeezed her hand encouragingly. "When I came back, Davey was, He was," she stopped again and took a deep breath, "He was on the floor in the living room. His throat had been cut," she had to stop then. She felt her stomach lurch and struggled to find oxygen to breathe. John pulled her closer and enveloped her in his arms. She gripped the front of his shirt tightly and allowed herself a few minutes before moving on.

"Then I heard Cassie scream," she hated how weak her voice sounded, "When I got into my bedroom, this guy grabbed me and slammed me against the wall," she paused and scratched roughly at her arm. "My father had Cassie tied down to my bed. He was raping her," she heard John suck in a breath from beside her, "I started screaming, so the guy holding me knocked me out. When I came too, the guy I didn't know was gone, and my dad was standing over me. He picked me up and slammed me against the wall. He started raping me, but I didn't even feel it. I was too busy worrying about Cassie, there was a lot of blood…." She trailed off. John tapped a finger against her hand, bringing her back to the present.

"I passed out again. I woke back up with Don standing over me outside on the road. My father had set our apartment on fire. They had Cassie laid out beside me, and I could tell by looking at her that she wasn't going to make it," she was surprised at how steady her voice was. "I held her and sung to her while she died," she finished. She dug fingernails into her knee, willing the pain to evade the tears threatening to spill. John pried her fingers from her knee and held it tightly in his other hand. Sam looked down. She was ashamed he caught her doing such a childish thing.

"It's not your fault," his quiet words made her eyes meet his sharply. "You can't blame yourself for any of that," he said more forcefully. She shook her head and looked at anywhere and anything other than him.

"I shouldn't have left them alone like that for so long-"

"You think that would have changed anything? You couldn't have known. You sacrificed everything for those kids. There wasn't anything else you could have possibly done. There isn't anyone to blame but your bastard of a father," he said sternly.

It was like a dam had broken.

John pulled her flush against him as he saw her face crumple and her resolve finally tear away. He ran a hand along her spine as he listened to the pained cries she let out. He found it odd that he could physically feel an ache in his chest. He had finally begun to understand the woman weeping in his arms. She came off sensual because of her the lifestyle she was forced into; in reality, she was innocent. She came off confident, when she actually had many insecurities kept well hidden. She came off as care-free, when she actually had the weight of the world on her shoulders. He was seeing his partner in a new light. While yes, she was strong and independent, she was also, in a sense, broken. And he had a feeling this story was just a scratch on a thick surface.

Sam quieted after a while and shyly wiped away her tears and blushed at the amount of tear puddles she left on his shirt. "Sorry," she said shyly. John smiled at her blush and chuckled. He wiped the moisture from her face with his thumbs and kissed her, enjoying the sigh she made.

"Some first date, huh? Ends up depressing and crying on your shoulder," she said abashed. She sighed and gave him a genuine smile. "Okay, how about some happier conversation?" she asked.

"You mean like, how amazing Bob Dylan is?" he laughed as she poked him, rather hard, in the side.

"Don't start with me, Munch," she growled. He shifted slightly and ran a hand down her arm, making her shiver.

"Why, afraid you can't finish it?" he teased. A slight pink blush spread up her cheeks, but she held her ground.

"Don't flatter yourself darlin'," she said. John's face grew closer still.

"Really? You seemed to enjoy my kisses," he said. Her quick glance to his lips was not lost to him.

"Actually, they were quiet lacking," she meant it to come out witty, but it came out in a breathless whisper. John smirked, noticing her quickened breathing.

"Is that so? Guess I'll have to start practicing then."

Sam shivered as he held her gaze. They were so close; his breath was warm against her lips. She slowly closed her eyes and fisted her hands deeper into his shirt. His lips barely grazed hers before quickly moving to kiss her on the cheek. He leaned back then, laughing at the indignant look on her face.

"Oops, I think I missed," he smiled wider at her huff of aggravation.

"John…" she said in a warning voice. He took in her darkened eyes. Instead of the sky, they look like sapphires. Her lips were parted slightly and a pale blush was still evident. Oh yes, he knew what that look meant. He'd have to be careful, or this could get out of hand fairly quickly.

He placed a hand to cradle her head and pulled her closer by the waist with another. He watched her eyes flutter closed once more before their lips met. They moved their lips in a leisurely pace, taking in the taste of the other. John rubbed circles on her hip with his fingers, causing a delicious feeling to course through her body.

He pulled back slowly and took in her lidded gaze and parted lips. He cleared his throat and gave her a crooked smile, "Better?"

"Mmm," she hummed. She gave him a shy smile and curled into his side with a satisfied sigh. John shifted and brought them down to a laying position. He slung a hand loosely around her waist. She pressed her face into his chest and inhaled. She had never been so comfortable in her entire life.

"Getting tired?" he asked. His voice vibrated through his chest, tickling her nose.

"A little," she admitted.

"Want to call it a night?" he asked. Sam immediately shook her head. Going back to her lonesome apartment sounded like the worst thing in the world right now.

"Do you?" she asked. He felt her bite her lip against his chest.

"No," he answered honestly. He rubbed a hand on her lower back and smiled at her shiver. He buried his nose in her hair, inhaling the scent of lavender. No, he was defiantly not ready to let this beautiful woman out of his arms just yet.

She unpinned her hair and shook out the curls. John happily ran a hand through her hair, trying to uncoil the tight curls. They were quiet for a while, just content with the feel of the other pressed up against them.

"You sure you aren't sleepy?" he asked after hearing her breathing even out.

"Mm-uh," she mumbled, pressing herself closer to him. He chuckled at her barely-there reply.

"It's two in the morning, why don't you stay the night?" he asked.

That woke her up.

"Really?" she asked hesitantly. She wasn't sure exactly what he meant by 'stay the night.'

"Sure, I've got an old shirt you could sleep in," he said, sensing the nervous apprehension. She gave him a sleepy smile.

"Yeah, ok," she answered. John sat up and hauled his sleepy partner off the couch, laughing as she stumbled on the hem of her long dress. She smiled shyly and slapped his arm.

"Shuddup, I'm sleepy," she giggled. Her accent had come out full force.

"Come on, hillbilly," he dodged another slap and led her to his bedroom. Sam raised an eyebrow as she entered the room. Instead of his typical black décor, it was a mix of a deep brown and various shades of greens. She picked up a light green candle off a nightstand and gave him a surprised look.

"What, just because I like appreciate the color black doesn't mean I don't enjoy color and ambiance," he said defensively. She giggled and placed the candle back down. He threw a black buttoned up shirt in her direction. She caught it easily and began walking to the connected bathroom.

"Wait a second, I've got a pair of sweats that are too small-"

"Oh, don't worry about that. I don't sleep in pants," she shot a pointed look over her shoulder before closing the bathroom door. John stared at the door, sure his eyes were going to pop out of his skull. That damned woman was going to be the death of him.

He quickly changed into a pair of flannel pajama pants and matching button up shirt. He turned down his bed and climbed in. He listened to the water running and her soft humming through the door.

When she finally emerged, he didn't know what to stare at first. Just the sight of her toned, tanned legs sticking out of his shirt was enough to make him feel his pants constrict. Perhaps the thing that caught his attention the most was the generous amount of freckles scattered across her nose and cheeks.

"So that's why Don calls you freckles!" he laughed as she blushed and covered her face with her hands as she sat down beside him.

"I hate them!" her voice came muffled behind her hands. He peeled her hands away and kissed her on the nose.

"I think they're cute," he said. She blushed and smiled sweetly. Did she realize she looked like a teenager without all that makeup?

"Thanks," she said. She climbed under the covers and pressed herself closer to him. He opted for leaving his hands above the covers. His hands were itching to run themselves down her thighs. Sam yawned tiredly before kissing him on the cheek.

"Night Johnny," she mumbled sleepily.

"Night hillbilly," he chuckled as she sleepily smacked his chest.

**I am Sooo sorry about the late update guys! I've had finals, Christmas shoppin, and such going on, and I haven't had a lot of time! So again, so so sorry! I am really so grateful for all the reviews you guys have given! I'm glad you think I am doing Munch justice! As always, give me some feedback! Maybe we'll heat it up next chapter? (;**


	10. Missus Munch

**MISSUS MUNCH**

**DISCLAIMER:** **Own it I do not.**

John knew the moment he woke up that he was in for an awkward morning. He became fully aware of the bare leg draped across his waist and that her shirt had ridden up to just below her breasts, giving him full view of her blue bikini style panties. His eyes lingered on the tattoos on her thigh and side. Did he mention the morning erection pressed intimately between her legs? They both eyed each other at once, neither of them allowing themselves to breathe.

He took in her flushed cheeks and wide eyes and cursed under his breath. "Shit, I'm sorry," he tried to move to sit up but her leg tightened around his waist, making him suck in a deep breath. He gave her a questioning gaze. It intensified with tomato-like hue creeping up her cheeks.

"It's ok, I mean, it's natural, right? No reason to be embarrassed. Besides I didn't say I didn't like it," she trailed off and bit her lip. John stopped breathing. Did he hear that right? He rolled slightly, bracing an arm on the pillow beside her head. Her breathing hitched as he slowly came closer, never taking his eyes off of her own. She had never seen such intensity before.

This kiss was different. It wasn't the tender kisses he usually bestowed; these were harder and fueled by impulse. He traced his tongue on her bottom lip, making her gasp on contact. He took full advantaged and gently probed her mouth. She moaned quietly and dug her fingers in his hair, her nails scratching his scalp lightly. He brushed his hands lightly over her bare sides and stomach, loving the shiver that went through her spine.

It took them both a few lust filled moment to realize his phone was ringing on the nightstand behind him. He reluctantly pulled himself away from her warm embrace and grabbed his phone. He groaned and wiped a hand over his face. "Of course it would be your father," he said. John watched her giggle and felt a little disappointed as she got up and made her way to his bathroom. He watched her hips sway gently away. Donald Cragen better have a damn good reason for calling him.

"How can I help you on my day off, Captain?" he demanded as he answered his phone.

"Good morning to you, too," Cragen said wearily. He knew his second in command hated being bothered on his days off.

"What is it?" John said, getting to the point. He had a half-naked woman in his bathroom he would like to be kissing on rather than talking to her father.

"Important case, pick up Sam and be here in an hour," he said. His voice left no room for arguing. John sighed and smirked slightly. He wondered how the dear old captain would react if he knew his daughter was in the next room?

"You got it chief," he said. He hung up as Sam exited the bathroom. She took a seat on the bed beside him, not bothering to hide the view of her panties. What was the point? He had already seen them. John swallowed thickly. He wanted nothing more than to trace that tattoo on her thigh with his tongue and-

_Down boy._

He cleared his throat, and thoughts, and began to answer her questioning gaze, "Your father seems to request our presence in about an hour." She sighed and face planted into his chest.

"He has a way of ruining things, doesn't he?" she asked as she sat back up.

"It seems that way," he agreed. "Mind if I shower at your place? Seeing as how I'm supposed to be picking you up anyways?" he asked. Sam stood up with her back to him and stretched her arms high over her head. Her shirt rose with it, giving him a perfect view of her scantily clad ass. She gazed at him with lidded eyes over her shoulder.

"Sure, thing, _partner,_" she purred seductively.

Yep, he might as well buy her the shovel to dig his grave with. This woman was going to kill him.

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"You smell like a girl," Sam teased her partner in the precinct elevator. John shot her a glare. He was secretly ok with that. He smelled like her.

"You're laughing now. But what happens when your dad catches a whiff of me?" he smirked at her fallen look.

"Oh," she said quietly. She hadn't thought of that. She glared at him and stuck her tongue out. John raised his eyebrows.

"When did you stick that thing back in?" he motioned to the tongue ring. She gave him a mischievous look and closed the gap in between them.

"I snuck it in when you were showering. Ever kissed a girl with a tongue ring?" she rubbed her hands on his chest and smiled slyly. He was quick to wrap an arm around her waist and draw her close.

She boldly nipped his bottom lip before meeting his tongue with her own. John circled the ring curiously. It was erotic, and he quickly decided he liked it.

"Damn!" Fin said as the elevator doors opened. The two partners quickly jumped three feet from each other. Sam's face was red, while John had an expression of annoyance. "I see you two had a good night?" Fin shot an amused look at his long-time friend.

"Oh, shut up!" she growled. She pushed her way between the two men and hurried into the bull pin.

"I take it she told you about Dollie?" Fin's voice stopped the elder detective.

"Yeah, she did," he said simply, turning to face the new comer. Fin eyed him carefully.

"You're the only person she's ever told. Don and I know because we were there, but we could never get her to talk about it. She trusts you a lot, so I figure you're an ok guy. But I'll tell you now," he moved forward to look into his eyes, "You better pray for death if you hurt her," the intense stare he was giving him made John realize he wasn't kidding. John gave a curt nod and they resumed walking into the bull pin. Maybe this Fin guy was alright after all.

John took his seat in front of his partner at his desk. She gave him a seductive smile before giving her attention to her father.

"So, Papa, what's up?" she asked. Her father sighed, clearly annoyed.

"It seems that our governor's daughter has disappeared," he said slowly. The detectives glanced at each other in mild surprise. "Obviously I don't need to tell you that discretion is a must have for this case. Now, for details," he opened a file, "There isn't much. The only thing we know is she claimed to have went to her best friend's house for a sleep over. When the governor's wife went to pick Lindsey up, the friend and friend's mom didn't know anything about a sleep over. So, it seems she may have been abducted," he finished. Sam scoffed. The detectives stared at her in question.

"Abducted? Seriously?" she said sarcastically.

"What, you think she ran away?" Elliot asked.

"Duh. She's a fifteen year old in the limelight. It's bad enough having the media follow you around all day, but having to appear perfect all the time? It can wear a person down," she said. John had a feeling she knew from experience.

"Then why wouldn't she tell her best friend?" Liv asked. She wasn't too convinced with her friend's theory.

"Because she knows she'd blab. A high society girl like her doesn't have any real friends. They're the girls with the richest pockets and biggest personalities. I say that Miss Lindsey has a friend, or boyfriend, on the side. Someone her perfect parents and friends wouldn't take too kindly to," she finished. Don stared admiringly at his daughter. She had really come into her detective pants these last few months.

"I don't know," Fin said dejectedly. "How is a little girl that is used to having everything handed to her going to survive on her own?"

"Because she's not alone! She's with whomever her friend is," she said simply. The detectives nodded. She did make a good point.

"Alright, sounds like you might be on to something, but we still can't rule out the possibility she was forced and abducted. Benson, Cragen, you talk to the friends, Stabler and Munch, you talk to the parents," he said.

"Hey, what about me?" Fin asked. He was itching to start on a case.

"You and I have some business to attend to," he wiggled his eyebrows and motioned to his office. Fin gulped. The last time he got that look Cragen ended up shooting him in the foot. 'Accidentally' of course.

"Good luck, Odey," Sam said in mock sympathy. Sam caught the little wink her partner gave her and she returned it with a wide smile.

She couldn't believe how much had changed in just over two days. Never in her life had she been so comfortable with a man, in every sense of the word. Would she had actually gone all the way with her partner? After just one date? She'd like to say no, but she wasn't so sure. She had never felt that pull or warm feeling in her stomach before. Everything he did made her have this longing that was begging to be filled.

One thing she knew, she wanted more.

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"So, how good was the sex?" Liv laughed as her friend spit coffee onto the windshield. "You're cleaning that up!" she snorted at her glare.

"And what the hell does that mean?" she asked.

"It means that you two can't keep your bedroom eyes off each other. And don't think I didn't see that scene in the elevator. It looked like you two could taste each other's tonsils!" she said. Sam groaned and hid behind her hands.

"Who else saw?" she asked.

"Just me and Fin. So spill it, what happened this weekend!" she nudged her friend with her elbow as she turned the wheel. Sam sighed, but couldn't keep the grin from her face. She retold the events starting from the kiss on the rooftop all the way to the romp that morning.

"You guys move fast!" she laughed. Sam's eyes widened.

"We weren't going to do anything, Liv!" she said.

"So, making out in your underwear in a bed with a ready to go man on top of you had no effect on you what so ever?" she smiled smugly at Sam's groan.

"I don't know, I mean we've only had one date," Sam trailed off, unsure how to continue. Liv knew that she had never had an actual sexual encounter before, so she gave her friend an apologetic smile.

"Hey, you two have been chasing each other around for the past six months, so it's natural things got a little heated. How do you feel about him?" she asked. Sam bit her lip in thought.

"I don't know really. I've never felt like this before?" she blushed at her innocence. She really did feel like a child sometimes.

"Are you comfortable with him?" Liv asked.

"More so than I've ever been," she answered right away.

"So what's the problem? John's not the kind of guy to have a fling," She said sternly. Sam smiled at the fluttering sensation in her stomach.

"Yeah, I guess you're right. He wouldn't do what I don't want him to," she said. It was times like these she was glad to have a good friend like Liv.

"I'm not saying you should go ahead and sleep with him just because. I'm saying just go on your own pace. He'll match yours," Liv put the car in park and gave what had become her best friend a grand smile. Sam returned the gesture. "Besides…I'm waiting on you to confirm if Jews are kinky lovers!" She barely escaped the slap to her arm.

Upon entering the high school, both women were greeted by a nervous looking woman. "I'm Julia Lane, the principal. Let's talk in my office," she said. Her beady eyes darted back and forth. The two women glanced at each other curiously, but followed the strange little woman regardless.

"Please, please have a seat," she motioned to the two chairs in front of her desk. The detectives obliged.

"Forgive me, but you seem a little out of sorts, Mrs. Lane," Olivia said. The elderly woman sighed and tucked a stray hair back into her tight bun.

"Yes, well. The governor has made it _very _clear he doesn't want it to get out that Lindsey is missing," she said wearily.

"Understandable, but surly to goodness he knows word will get out after we question the students?" Sam said. Something sounded fishy.

"About that," the woman wrung her hands in a nervous fashion, "Governor Schick doesn't want you questioning the students. He is weary of the media and is afraid it will put Lindsey in further danger.

"Mrs. Lane, we really need to talk to the students. Abductions of high society people, especially children, are usually used for ransom money. We aren't going to find her if we can't gather evidence," Liv explained. The woman shook her head tiredly.

"I know this. I've tried talking to him, but he refuses to cooperate," she said. Sam furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

"He doesn't want the media involved, right?" she said slowly. The older woman gave her a pointed stare, as if to say 'weren't you listening?'

"Okay, so how does he figure not allowing us to talk to her friends will help that situation? When word does get out about her disappearance, and it eventually will, it'll also come out that he isn't letting us do our job?" she said. Liv nodded her head in agreement.

"I wish I could help you detectives, I really do. But until you get the governor's approval I can't help you," Mrs. Lane said. The two girls said their goodbyes and exited the school quickly.

"What do you make of that?" Sam asked when they got outside.

"Sounds like our governor's got something to hide," Liv answered.

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"Is that so? Interesting. Alright, see you back at the house," John said. He hung up his phone and sighed. Why couldn't this case be easy? "It seems our governor isn't too concerned about his daughter's disappearance," he said.

Elliot gave him an impatient glance from the driver's seat. Did the man have to beat around the bush? "What's up?" Elliot asked, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice. How did Sam deal with this guy?

"Sam said that he isn't letting them question her friends or her teachers. Says it'll stir up the media," he said.

"Oh really? Since when is the blowhard governor dodging the media?" Elliot asked. Governor Schick wasn't one to say no to a camera.

"I guess since he has something to hide," John replied. He felt his phone buzz and looked down. The name on the text immediately made him smile.

_By the way can we go to Crisco's later?_

**Depends on who's buying…**

_I suppose since you took me to a fancy restaurant I can afford to buy you a burger…_

**Can I have a chocolate shake too mommy?**

_If you be a good boy (;_

"Must be Sam, huh?" Elliot said slyly.

"What makes you say that?" John asked.

"Come on John, everybody and their mother knows you hate cell phones. I've seen you send about three text messages for the whole time I've known you. Obviously, there's a reason why you've taken up the habit," Elliot said plainly.

"Good eye, good eye," John returned.

"So how's that going?" Elliot asked, truly curious.

"Great actually. Took her to that new Thai restaurant," he and his partner for the day gave each other a knowing smile.

"Be careful there, don't want to get her spoiled too early!" Elliot said. John chuckled. He was beginning to realize that he and the younger detective were starting to become better friends. They weren't close, but they were defiantly better acquainted than they had been.

"What about you?" John asked. Elliot smirked.

"I'm still a married man until Kathy signs those damn papers," Elliot replied. It was getting exceedingly hard, though. The tension between he and his partner was growing to be huge. It felt like if either one of them breathed wrong it would explode. But, Liv knew he wouldn't even think about doing anything, with any woman, before he became divorced.

"So, you're confirming that after those papers are signed, you're going to advance on your partner?" John asked.

"I'm not so sure she'd appreciate that," Elliot said quietly. He hadn't admitted that he actually had feelings for his partner before now.

"Believe me man, she will," John said. He had a nagging feeling that if Sam was here she'd tell him to shut up.

"You sound sure about that. You know something I don't?" he asked. The two had arrived at the governor's house, but Elliot wasn't about to let the elder detective out without an answer.

"I'm not allowed to say," he started. He knew that wasn't going to work at Elliot's glare. He sighed in defeat. "I can't tell you what I know because my partner will take a shotgun to my balls, but I can tell you Liv's waiting for you to make the move," he said. That seemed to satisfy Elliot.

"Thanks," Elliot said, somewhat awkwardly. It was almost comical. He was taking advice from a man that had been divorced three times.

Upon the detectives reaching the door to the large estate, a young girl in a maid outfit quickly opened the door and ushered them inside. The detectives immediately obliged.

"It's about time you showed up," a very angry Governor Schick growled out. He beckoned for them to follow him to his study. The detectives, again, obliged without a word.

"I'll get straight to the point, gentlemen. I'm sure you're without a doubt going to ask me why I refuse to let you question her friends. The answer is," he wavered for a moment, "my daughter has been partaking in an _unorthodox _lifestyle as of late," he said.

"What do you mean?" Elliot asked. The governor looked almost embarrassed.

"I mean, my daughter has become a homosexual. She has become involved with a twenty-two year old woman. I'm positive this woman abducted my daughter. I want her found and arrested, without the media starting in," he said. John groaned. He wasn't worried about his daughter. Like any politician, he was worried about his self-image.

"What's this girl's name?" John asked. He wasn't even attempting to hide the disgust in his voice.

"Claire Sung. She was my daughter's piano teacher," the arrogant man answered.

"Mr. Schick, we really need you to give us the permission to talk to the people at her school. They may have an idea as to where they are. Not to mention, we need to cover all scenarios and make sure that the abductor isn't someone else," Elliot calmly explained.

"No. I know it was Claire Sung. If you can only find her by talking to children, what good are you as detectives? Find another way," he said. John curled his lip in distaste.

"With all due respect, _governor_, you don't seem very worried about your daughter. If _you_ were half the father the _media_ claims you to be, you'd want to use whatever means necessary to find your daughter. Not withhold the means to find her, just so the world doesn't find out you have a gay daughter," John said angrily.

"I would be careful with your tongue if I was you, detective. I have many friends in high places," the governor threatened with arrogant authority. John resisted to the urge to roll his eyes. Elliot cleared his throat as the two men glared at each other.

"Thank you, Governor. We'll be discreet. And don't worry, we'll find your daughter," Elliot said. John stood up and began to leave, not bothering with parting words.

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"Should I be worried?" Fin said wearily as he entered his boss's office.

"Of what?" Don asked.

"Well, the last time you wiggled your eyebrows and gave me that look, you shot me in the foot," Fin shrugged and took a seat in front of his Don's desk.

"That was an accident," Don said.

"Yeah, suuuure," Fin rolled his eyes.

"Well, I can shoot you in the foot this time too, if you rather?" Don growled.

"No, no. What did you want sir?" Fin said. Somehow he didn't think Don was joking.

"That's better. I called you in here today, because I need your help," Don pulled out a file from his desk drawer. CONFIDENTIAL was stamped across the top.

"On the job for two days, and you're giving me a secret mission?" Fin asked with his eyebrows raised.

"Actually, smart ass, I need your wisdom," Don tossed the file into Fin's greedy hands. "You remember a Nathan Yates?"

"You kidding? He's the guy that first hired me and Dolls back in the day," he said. Yates was a sleazy strip club owner when he and Sam were just starting out on the streets. He hired Fin as a bouncer, and that's where Dollie got her start in the strip world. Yates was nothing more than a scum bag wanna-be drug dealer.

"It seems he's moved up since then. He runs an actual burlesque club. There have been complaints that he's been molesting a few of the dancers, but none of them will speak up," Don said.

"Alright, so what advice do you need?" Fin asked. Don hesitated.

"He'd kill to have his hands on Sam, with her popularity and such. Do you think-"

"No," Fin said immediately. "For one, you really think she's going to resurface the Dollie train? She just got that shit to die down. There's no way she'd bring it all back. For two, she'll see it as you using her," he was almost angry just at the suggestion.

"I don't know, Fin. Yeah, I think she won't like the idea of bringing Dollie back into the world, but I think she'd do it for the victims. It'll hit close to home that the victims are molested dancers," he said gently. Fin Sighed and rubbed a hand over his head.

"You're right. She'll want to help them. But I don't know if she'll do it. Why don't you get a different detective to pose as a dancer?" he asked.

"Because Yates is pretty big now. He won't hire just anyone," Cragen replied. "Not to mention, if Dollie made the condition he had to hire you as her body guard, he'd do it in a heartbeat, that way you'll be there to watch over things," Don said.

"How do you know that Yates doesn't know she's a cop now?" Fin asked suddenly.

"We don't for sure. But I'm fairly certain they don't. We should have heard something by now if they know," he said. Fin sighed at his logic.

"I'm not crazy about the idea," Fin said honestly.

"Neither am I, but she's the best suited for the job," Cragen said. The two stared at each other. What it boiled down to was, could they ask Sam to recreate what she fought hard to destroy? Or could they let innocent women continue to be raped for God knows how long?

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"Are you completely insane?" Sam hissed at her partner. The two had gone ahead with their lunch date at Crisco's. Elliot and Fin were following a lead given by the suspect's mother. The mother said she did indeed see her daughter and Lindsey together, both with suitcases. The case was an easy closer. Find the two at the Holiday Inn hotel, and arrest the older woman. So, Cragen dismissed the remaining squad so they could enjoy the rest of their weekend.

"What! You cannot tell me that light sabors are not a million times better than stupid photon lasers!" he said, taking a big bite out of his burger. He honestly didn't care for _Star Wars_, but he knew his partner was a firm believer in _Star Trek_, making it all too easy to press her buttons. She was downright cute when she was angry. Her face flushed and her southern accent was so pronounced, he actually had to listen carefully to understand certain words.

"Ch, as if! You could cut your damn leg off if you accidently dropped the thing! You can actually control the intensity and direction of a laser! Not to mention _Star Wars _has incest and is run by a crispy critter in a plastic suit with asthma!" she seethed. John couldn't hold onto his angered façade. He irrupted in deep belts of laugher, which only intensified by her blush.

"You know what I think?" he asked when he calmed down.

"What's that?" she asked sarcastically.

"You have a crush on Captain Piccard," he said slyly. She wiggled her eyebrows at him.

"It's the accent!" It was her turn to smile at his pout.

"Great, you'd prefer a bald man that runs around in a spandex space suit over me!" he said sadly.

"Well I can't say for sure, I've never seen you in spandex," she replied with a thoughtful look on her face.

"Trust me, bad idea," John answered.

"Why's that?" Sam asked.

"Can you imagine my twig legs encased in spandex?" he shuddered at the thought.

"Your legs wouldn't be the object of my attention," she said. She nibbled on a French fry seductively. He swallowed roughly.

"Is that so?" his voice came out scratchy.

"Mmmm," she hummed. She winked and giggled as he choked on his chocolate shake. "Shew, I'm full," she rubbed her stomach graciously.

"Yeah, me too," he had gained his voice back. "You want to come home with me?" he asked. He saw her freeze and bite her lip. He leaned across the table and swiped a curl from her face. "Relax, I'm not expecting anything. I just like your company," he said softly. She smiled and nodded.

"Yeah, alright," John smiled widely and took out his wallet. "Wait, what are you doing? I said I'll pay?" Sam said confusedly.

"It's alright, I got it," he threw the money on the table and stood up. He grabbed her hand and pulled her up alongside him. The puzzled look on her face made him smirk.

"Paying the bill two days in a row? Should I be worried?" she teased.

"You could pay if you'd rather?" he chuckled at her glare and kissed her nose. "You're not just my partner anymore, so I figure I shouldn't play fast and loose," he explained. She blushed and hid her grin behind her free hand.

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Sam sighed and leaned her head back against her partner's chest. The two had quickly shed their day gear and changed into pajamas. John was leaned against the front of his bed head board, while his petite partner was settled between his legs and leaned up against him. Sam was reading one of the many _Conspiracies: Fact or Fiction? _magazines, and he was happily reading over her shoulder.

"I actually believe that one," she pointed to Marilyn Monroe section.

"That's my girl," he said proudly. He kissed her cheek and smiled at her giggle. She closed the worn out magazine and yawned. "Sleepy?" he asked.

"A little she admitted," she stretched her legs, the tattoo on her thigh capturing his attention momentarily.

"Want to call it a night?" he laid his head on her shoulder and pressed his cheek against hers.

"No, it's only eight o'clock," she replied. A mischievous look came over her face before she suddenly twisted around and wrapped her legs around his waist. His eyes drifted to her thigh once more. She smirked at his line of sight and pressed herself harder against him. "I actually wanna play a game," she purred. John swallowed thickly at the seductive smile she gave him.

"Is that so?" his voice was husky. The hands on her hips tightened as her lips brushed against his jaw line.

"Mmm," she hummed as she slowly made her way across his chin to the other side of his jaw, "Yep. You know what I want to play?" her breath tickled his ear.

"What?" it came out in a throaty whisper.

She brought her lips to his, barely touching, and said, "I wanna play twenty questions!" The glare she received made her bust into giggles.

"That was evil," he growled. She chuckled and pulled him down onto the bed. He pulled the blankets up over them and took her in his arms. "Alright, you first then," he sighed. He wasn't one for games, but it would make her happy.

"Okay, question one, do you have any brothers or sisters?" she asked.

"I have one brother, Bernard. He's a mortician. He lives in Baltimore with his wife, Rhonda and their two kids," he said.

"How come you never talk about him?" she asked. She flinched at his dejected sigh.

"We aren't that close, I guess," he said. She could tell there was more, but she let it go. "Alright, my turn. When did Don adopt you?"

"When I was sixteen," she said quietly. She knew he'd ask tough questions, and she was somewhat ready for them. That's the reason she suggested the little game. It made it a little easier. "Question two, did you have a crush on your old partner?" she smirked when she felt him stiffen.

"Yes, but it was of a physical nature," he said, "Did you and Fin ever have a thing?" he asked.

"Ew. No, I promise. We kissed and put on shows when we were onstage, but that's it. Odey's like my older brother, John, even if we may sometimes act like it's something else. We're very close, but not of a romantic sorts," she said sternly. John seemed satisfied with this answer.

"Question three, do you still love any of your ex-wives?" she asked, somewhat reluctantly. She wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer.

"No, I don't," he said it with a hint of malice, "They were all spoiled, pampered, snobs," he growled. Sam bit back a smile. "Ever done any drugs?"

She shifted uncomfortably, "Actually, I used to be a pretty bad Heroin addict," she said quietly. John's mouth dropped.

"What?" he asked dumbfounded. Sam blushed and hid her face behind her hands.

"I mean, I'm sober and everything, have been for a while now. Anyway, I used to do a little coke, too. And of course, weed," she finished quickly. Once recovered from his shock, John pried her hands loose and kissed her on the forehead.

"Well, you look good for a recovered drug addict!" he joked. Sam smiled appreciatively at his attempt to lighten the atmosphere.

"Thank you. Okay, question four. What's your biggest sexual fantasy?" she smirked at his floored expression.

"Uh," he cleared his throat, "I guess that would be to have you spread out over my desk at work in a sexy school girl uniform?" it was his turn to smirk as her face turned a florescent color and a girlish squeal erupted from her.

"John William Ray Munch!" she squealed, her face hidden in his chest. His deep laughter vibrated her nose.

"Don't get mad at me, you asked!" he said through his laughter. Sam smacked him hard in the arm and huffed.

"Dear lord," she groaned and slapped a hand on her forehead. "What am I going to do with you?" she teased.

"Marry me?" he said. Sam giggled and scooted closer to him. He watched in amusement as she fought another yawn.

"Yes, because the first three times were suuuuuuuch a success," she mumbled sleepily.

"Fourth time's the charm," he said. Sam chuckled and kissed him lightly on the lips.

"Buy me a ring, and I'll gladly be Missus Munch," she nuzzled his neck and let out a yawn.

"You mean that?" he teased. Part of him almost hoped she wasn't playing.

"Mhmm," she sighed. John smiled and kissed her head.

"Alright then, goodnight, Missus Munch," he said.

He thought that had a pretty nice ring to it.

***BULL PIN- It's a term used for the main room in the SVU precinct, where the detectives ultimately reside and take complaints.**

**Really wanted to get this to you guys sooner, but I had a hellacious birthday/Christmas, so life's been pretty difficult as of late! Anywho, I hope you like the chapter, things will get a little more serious starting next chapter, so I hope you're up for it! As always, thank you SOOOOO much for my reviewers! You guys are the reason I keep writing! Thanks for the story favs and story subscriptions, you guys make my day! Happy Upcoming New Year.**


	11. Overcoming Boundaries

**OVER COMING BOUNDARIES**

_**Disclaimer: I do not own…wish I did!**_

John squinted at the harsh sunlight blinding him. He really needed to remember to close the curtains before laying down at night. He stretched his legs and craned his neck down to look at his still sleeping partner. She was something like a barnacle when she slept. She was latched onto his side, hands tangled in his shirt, bare leg draped across his midsection.

_I'm really starting to think I have a tattoo fetish, _he thought to himself. He traced the elaborate dragon on her thigh, smiling at the sigh she gave in her sleep. His smile widened when he gently squeezed her knee, knowing she was ticklish there. Sam groaned as her leg jerked in response. Finger poised, he lightly touched her ear. She made a low growl in her throat and swatted at his hand. Blue eyes slowly peeked through long lashes as she stirred.

"Good morning," John said cheerfully and quickly kissed her forehead.

"G'mornin'," she mumbled with a sleepy smile on her face. He watched amused as her toes curled with the force of her morning stretch.

"Sleep well?" he asked as he absentmindedly traced her colored thigh.

"Yes, actually," She replied. Come to think of it, she hadn't had a single nightmare either time she had slept with him. Huh. She bent back slightly to retrieve her phone off the nightstand. The movement gave John a full view of her toned stomach as her(his) shirt rose upwards. In a stroke of mischief, he tugged gently on her belly ring. She gasped and quickly snapped forwards, smacking his hand away from the piece of jewelry.

"Excuse you!" she glared at his shit-eating grin. He chuckled and kissed her cheek before quickly stealing her phone from her hand. "John!"

"Hmm, two texts from Liv," he said curiously. Sam growled and snatched her phone back, looking like she was going to beat the ever loving shit out of him. Instead, she opted for laying back down on his shoulder and held the phone where he could see too.

**You and the kink up for a night out?**

** Me n El want to try out that new bar, Henry's on 42****nd**** st.**

"Kink? Who's Kink?" John asked. Sam turned a crimson red and hid her face behind hands.

"Uh…Liv thinks Jews are kinky lovers," she mumbled through her hands. John smirked.

"Oh? What did you tell her?" he said in a low voice. His hand traveled high up her thigh. Sam let out an indignant screech and pinched the back of his hand.

"How should I know, you idiot!" she growled. He laughed at her pout and red face. She really was too cute sometimes. "Do you want to go, or not?" she huffed, still flustered.

"Sure," he shrugged. Sam nodded and picked up her phone.

_Sure, we're in. If you ever call him Kink again, I'll kill you. 3_

John snorted. "You threaten to kill her, and then put a heart? That's a bit oxymoronic, don't ya think?" He winced at the elbow to his rib. Yup, he should probably stop teasing her for a little while.

"You're supposed to be on my side!" she crossed her arms and pouted, shimming away from his embrace. John locked his arms around her waist and drug her closer. She couldn't hide the smile tugging at the corner of her lips as he nuzzled her neck.

"I am on your side!" he mumbled. The feeling of his lips brushing against her neck made her breathing hitch. As if sensing her sudden peak of interest, he placed a gentle closed-mouth kiss to her neck. Sam's eyes fluttered closed as he rolled onto his side. He placed his forehead on hers and patiently waited for her to open her eyes.

She hummed happily as he stroked fingers through her curls and slowly opened her eyes. The warmth in his big, brown ones surprised her. She had never been looked at that way before. The light caress on her bare side made her squirm at the unusually _warm_ sensation that was quickly flooding through her body. She hesitantly wrapped her arms around his neck, settling her fingers at the base of his hair line.

"Is that so?" it came out a bit squeakier than she wanted. She blushed at his faint chuckle. This innocent, vulnerable side of her captivated him to no end.

"Mmhmm," he sighed nonchalantly and kissed along her jaw. Her eyes once again closed and she buried her fingers deeper in his hair. He nipped her ear lobe, making her gasp in surprise. He repeated the gesture, causing a low moan to spill from her throat, making his blood to rush to a more pleasurable part of his body. He gently pried her legs wider and settled himself between them.

He dusted small kisses back across her jaw line, pausing to nip her chin. She expelled a quick breath as he nipped her other ear. The warm feeling that seemed to be circulating through her was starting to get a little over whelming. She grabbed his face gently and brought his lips to her own. He met her eagerly, the feeling her full lips moving against his own made him groan.

She hesitantly licked his lower lip, and he opened his mouth to happily accept her probing tongue. Her back arched and she gasped loudly as he bit down lightly on her tongue. The feeling of her chest pressed against his made him dizzy. He had to stop this before it went too far.

He pulled back slowly, rubbing his nose against hers. She smiled and tugged on his neck to bring him back down to her lips. A confused look passed over her face when he didn't comply. "John?" she asked quietly. A million thoughts passed through her mind. Did he not want her? Was she not doing it right? He saw the slight panic in her eyes and quickly kissed her on the cheek.

"I just think we should slow down is all," he whispered. That surprised her.

"Slow down?" she echoed.

"Yeah, slow down. I've only taken you on one date."

"Oh," she bit her lips and her eyebrows creased. He took his pointer finger and wiggled her lip free before she could break skin. She really needed to break herself of that habit.

"Penny for your thoughts?" he whispered, stroking her chin with his thumb.

"Nothing, I just didn't know if I was-" she blushed and turned her head to look away from him. "If I was doing all this stuff right. I'm kinda new to this, ya know," she bit her lip again.

"Doing what stuff right?" He turned her face back to his.

"You know…" she squirmed underneath him, unable to meet his eyes.

"No, I don't," he wasn't going to make it easy for her. She huffed and stared at his chin.

"You're the first boyfriend I have ever had. I'm just not sure if I'm doing everything I'm supposed to do right!" she growled. Her face was easily the color of ketchup. Her scowl deepened when he began to laugh. She pushed him off and moved to sit up, but was quickly drug back down with an arm. She still refused to meet his eyes. She was horrified to feel her lip trembling and the tale-tell stinging of her eyes from unshed tears.

"Hey," he said gently. He rubbed his thumb in a circle on her jaw until she hesitantly looked him in the eye. "I wasn't laughing at you," he said seriously. "I was laughing because you're cute."

She raised an eyebrow in question. "Trust me," he continued, "You're doing everything right. I only said we should slow down because I want to do this right," he finished. The scowl on her face disappeared and her eyes softened.

"Right?" she whispered. He brushed his lips across hers, too gentle to be considered a kiss.

"Yeah," he whispered back. He gave her one of his crooked smiles that she couldn't help but return. "So, Missus Munch," he rolled onto his back and pulled her to his chest. She giggled at the nickname.

"Yes, Mr. Munch?" she rubbed his stomach and chest lovingly.

"What kind of bar is this that our presence is required later this evening?"

"Not sure, why?" He wiggled when her fingers brushed across a certain spot on his side. She made a mental note of the ticklish spot.

"I was just wondering if I'd have to show off my dance skills."

"Oh, no, I don't think that's required. I wouldn't want to blind the other patrons."

"Ouch!" he said in feigned hurt. She giggled and kissed his shoulder. "I didn't hear you complaining that night when I met you and we danced at the ball!"

"That's because I'm nice. I didn't want to hurt your feelings." She smiled at his pout. She kissed his cheek in apology. "I'm just kidding. You're more than adequate. I'm not sure about club dancing though…"

"I can drop it like it's hot!" he could have sworn he saw her eye twitch.

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"Are you almost done in there?" El shouted at the bathroom door. Liv had been in there for about an hour doing only God knew what.

"Jeez, El, impatient are we?" Liv shouted back. She checked her appearance once more. She felt a bit out of her element. She was wearing a red long-sleeved dress that hugged her every curve and ended mid-thigh. She had a black belt looped around the waist, and black high heels on her feet. She hadn't dressed this racy since she had gone under cover last year.

She hadn't felt confident enough to wear something like this until about a week ago when Sam all but forced her into the dress- _literally_

_**-FLASHBACK-**_

_ "Olivia Benson! If you don't put this on right now, I'm going to put it on for you!" Sam growled menacingly. The two women were in a changing room at a local fashion boutique. Olivia scowled at the silky red material in her friend's hand._

_ "No way. I can't pull something like that off!" Liv said sadly. Sam took a hard step towards her, making Liv quickly take two steps back. Sam was quiet intimidating when she wanted to be, especially in a confined space where she couldn't get away._

_ "Are ya kiddin' me? You've got long, tan legs that would look amazing in this!" she thrust the garment in question at her once more. _

_ "Sam-"_

_ "Liv, if you don't put this on in two seconds I swear," she glared at her friend. _

_ "I really don't want to- HEY! What the hell are you-" Liv's outburst was cut off as her shirt was roughly hauled up and over her head by the annoyed southerner. "Oh my God, alright!" Liv growled and put on the dress. The look on Sam's face was nothing short of approving when she finally had it on._

_ "You are one good look gal, Livvers!" Sam exclaimed. Liv rolled her eyes at her friend's girlish enthusiasm. "What, don't believe me? Look!" Sam twisted her gently to face the mirror. Liv gasped and ran a hand down her stomach. _

_ She actually looked nice. Beautiful maybe. _

_ "See, there is a woman hiding underneath that cop persona!" Sam squeaked at the hard slap she received to the back of her head._

_**-END FLASHBACK-**_

"We're gonna be late!" El moaned and knocked on the door once more.

"When have you ever been concerned about being late to anything?" she scoffed. Elliot scowled and glared at the wood.

"Since it involves beer, now come on!" he was about to beat on the door again, but his action, and breathing, left him when he caught sight of his partner in a dress that could be defined as sinful.

"I thought you were in a hurry?" Liv said in an annoyed voice. His gaze and silence was making her nervous.

"I uh.." he trailed off as his eyes ran over her legs. Liv smirked.

"Eyes are up here, El!" she snapped, though it lacked real annoyance behind it.

"Sorry, it's just, you look good, Liv," El said quietly. Liv held her breath when he took a step closer. "Real good, actually."

"Too bad you're married, huh?" she said boldly.

"Actually, I met with Kathy. She signed the divorce papers," he said seriously. The intense look he gave her made her knees feel a little weak. She was silently thankful for the wall supporting her from behind.

"So I guess that makes you a free man?"

"Close enough. She's already engaged to that bastard, so I guess so," he shrugged.

"Hmmm," Liv hummed as she moved off the wall and grabbed her purse from the couch. "Let's go celebrate your new found freedom with some beer, shall we?"

"Sounds good to me," he held open the front door for her. Usually Elliot Stabler wasn't so chivalrous, but he rather be the one walking in the back. The view was much better back there.

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"Why do women take so long to get ready?" John shouted to his partner. They had driven to her apartment to get ready, and she had currently occupied the bathroom for a consecutive one and a half hours.

"Oh, shut up. I'm done!" she said as she opened the door. The expression that came over his face already told her he liked the outfit she picked out. It was black and had three-quarter length sleeves. It ended in a pleated skirt mid-thigh. Well, mid-thigh was a _little_ generous. In fact, she was a little worried about bending over in public and giving people an eyeful.

She walked past her frozen partner to her closet and selected a pair of simple black five inch heels. She ran a hand through her tight curls and turned around to face him.

"Gonna stand there all night, or are we gonna get goin?" she said cheekily. He seemed to shake himself out of whatever reverie he had fallen into. With a shake of his head, he walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

"Are you trying to kill me?" He asked as he buried his face in her neck. She smelled like vanilla and something floral, like honeysuckles.

"Whatever gave you that idea?" she said innocently. She wiggled her hips against his and giggled when he growled and pinched her arms to make her stop.

"You're going to give this poor old man a heart attack," he groaned. She giggled and kissed his nose.

"Come on, Mr. Munch, I want beer," she grabbed her purse and led the way to the door.

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"Told you you look hot in that dress," Sam nudged Liv with her elbow. The boys had went upstairs to claim a pool table and the girls had opted for getting the drinks.

"Really think so?" Liv smiled and smoothed a hand down the front of her dress.

"You're kidding, right?" Sam scoffed, "If El's eyes get any bigger they're gonna pop out of his skull!" Liv giggled and grabbed the pitcher of beer the bar tender held out while Sam grabbed glasses.

"And what about you? How the hell are you keeping that skirt down?" Liv gave a pointed glance at the dangerously short material.

"Years of practice, Livvers," she replied. They made their way through the crowd and up the stairs. The second floor, thankfully, wasn't as crowded. They easily found the boys at the last pool table in the corner.

"Thank goodness you're here," Elliot groaned and pointed at the older man beside him. "He's talking about JFK again!" Sam gave her partner a stern glare as she sat down the glasses.

"No conspiracy theories!" She growled. John fidgeted from foot to foot.

"It's not a theory," he mumbled under his breath. Sam rolled her eyes and consoled him with a kiss to his cheek.

"Yes dear," she said. The frown immediately disappeared from his face. Liv and Elliot gave each other curious glances. That was the first time they had ever seen John Munch shut up and not argue about a conspiracy theory. Elliot shrugged and poured himself a glass of beer.

"Dear Lord!" he sputtered and spat the rest back in his glass. "That's disgusting!"

"What do you mean?" John asked. His poured a small bit and sipped it. His nose crinkled and he made a hissing noise. "I think it's stale!"

"Yeah, I think so. I'll go get a different pitcher. Care to join me?" he directed at Liv. She nodded and laughed when he held out his elbow for her to take. Sam watched her friends walk away, happy to see their relationship blooming.

"Want to get a game in before they get back?" John asked behind her. She turned around with a slightly embarrassed look on her face.

"I uh- I don't really know how to play pool," she said quietly. John raised an eyebrow.

"Seriously?" She blushed deeper and looked away.

"Serious!" she snapped. She jumped when he ran a hand from her shoulder down her arm.

"Then I guess I'm just going to have to teach you!" The glint in his eye made her throat dry. He turned her gently towards the table and pointed at the racked balls. "The white ball is called the cue ball, that's the ball you have to hit into the other balls to get them in the pockets. If you mess up and get the cue ball in a pocket, you scratch, and you forfeit a turn. The black eight ball ends the game. If you knock that one in a pocket before it's over, you lose. Now, come here," he placed his arms on either side of her and placed her hands under his on the cue stick.

"Bend over some," he said in her ear. She shivered and chuckled lightly.

"I really shouldn't have worn this dress," she reached between them and pulled the rising material down as far down as she could.

"I wasn't going to say anything," he whispered against her ear. She could feel his lips moving against her ear and knew he was smiling.

"Pervert!" she huffed. He ran a hand up her thigh and smiled wider at her squeak.

"Only for you!" he laughed when she turned her head to glare at him.

"Are you gonna teach me to play, or not?" she sighed. Her accent thickened in her annoyance.

"Okay, this first hit doesn't really matter if you get any in or not, it's just to break it. First, pull it back," he shifted closer and pulled her arm back, brushing his hand against her side. "After you line up, you shoot and see what happens," his shoulder flexed forwards and hers followed through. She jumped slightly at the loud noise the balls made when they clashed together. The orange striped ball made it into the corner pocket.

"Alright, you're stripes. You get to go again until you miss," he said. He watched in disappointment as the skirt of her dress lowered back down to a semi modest length as she stood up. She walked to the other end of the table and gave him an innocent look.

"Care to show me how that went again?" she called. He looked at her over his glasses and raised an eyebrow.

"Well certainly," he played along. He walked to her side of the table. "Which one are you aiming for?"

"The green one," she pointed at it.

"And why's that?"

"Because I can knock it off the border into the corner pocket," she replied. John smiled approvingly.

"Very good young padawon," he caged her against his chest and wrapped his hands over hers again.

"Thank ya, master," she countered. He chuckled deeply and nipped her at her ear. She squirmed against him as he did it again. "What are you doin?" she hissed. She wasn't comfortable with such a public display of affection.

"I'm using the force!" he said as he nuzzled her neck. Her annoyance gave way to amusement at his _Star Wars_ influenced wit.

"You're such a dork, John!" she giggled.

"Yes, but I'm your dork. Now, move it back like this," he pulled her arms back like before, his hands grazing against her side, "And now you hit it," his shoulder jolted forward and hers quickly followed. She smiled widely as the ball rolled exactly where she intended.

John rubbed a hand on her lower back. "Told you you'd be a natural. But I think you still need help," he hinted. He led her to the other side of the table. "See any shots?"

Sam studied the table carefully. "I could hit the yellow one and knock it into the purple to go in the side pocket?"

"Very good!" he praised. Sam frowned at the distance of the cue ball in the middle of the table. She'd have to bend over pretty far to hit it just right.

"You planned this didn't you?" she asked through narrow eyes. He smiled innocently.

"What do you mean?" he asked in a sickening sweet voice.

"You're determined to see my underwear, aren't you!" she laughed.

"Determined is a strong word, Mrs. Munch," he chuckled. He pressed his front against her back and laced his hands over hers on the cue stick. In a stroke of mischief, she turned swiftly in his arms pulled him closer by the belt loop on his slacks.

"What if I'm not wearing underwear?" she purred. John smirked and pushed her back harder against the table.

"Is that so?" he asked.

"How about you find out?" she whispered. John made a sound in the back of his throat that sounded suspiciously like a growl.

"You're making it increasingly hard to be a gentleman," he said huskily against her ear. Sam scoffed.

"Since when have you ever been considered a gentleman?" She giggled as he snapped his head up and pouted.

"Ouch, right in my pride," he mumbled. She laughed and kissed at his puffed out lip. "You really know how to bruise a fellow's ego," he griped. The corner of his lips fought the tugging of a smile.

"You poor thing! How do I go about un-bruising it?" she asked suggestively. She pressed herself as close as possible and stared up through him through hooded eyes. John cleared his throat quietly. The feeling of her body pressed flush against his was really starting to affect him.

"Well, you could start by-"

"Man, that line is long! Oh, hey, you guys starting the game without us?" Elliot asked, oblivious to the fact he had interrupted something rather private. Liv however noticed as the two jumped a foot apart from each other. She gave them an apologetic smile for Elliot's brashness.

"Naw, John-boy was just teaching me how to play," Sam said as she poured she and her partner a tall glass of the freshly retrieved brew.

"Wait, you don't know how to play pool?" Liv asked incredulously. Sam shook her head.

"I do now!" the group laughed.

"Alright, boys versus girls?" El said. Everyone shook their heads and the game began.

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"Don?" Fin asked as he opened his front door. The older man quickly ducked into the apartment, not waiting for an invitation.

"We have to talk," he said simply. He made his way to the living room and sat down, as if he had done it a million times. Fin shook his head and followed the older man.

"Alright, so what's up, Papa C?" Fin asked as he took a seat adjacent from his longtime friend.

"It's Nathan Yates. You remember what I told you yesterday? It seems he's escalating. One of his dancers was taking to the hospital, so badly beaten it was almost fatal. The poor girl still won't talk. She's got a set of three-year old twins at home to feed, so she won't risk losing her job by turning on Yates," Don ran a hand down his face.

"What's the extent of the injuries?" Fin asked, though he wasn't sure he really wanted to know.

"Three broken ribs, a fractured skull, broken radius in the right arm, and severe vaginal trauma. It looks like she might have been penetrated by a wooden bat of some sorts, just skinnier. Maybe a cane," Don said. He watched as Fin shook his head.

"Alright, so what do we do?" he asked, dreading the answer.

"I'm going to talk to Sam. She's the only one best suited for the job. Another detective will take months to get into the higher ranks, and someone will die before that happens. Yates is a powerful man now, he's good at hiding his tracks," he finished. The two sat in silence, just staring at each other.

"You worried?" Fin asked quietly after several seconds had collapsed.

"A bit," he admitted, "Actually, a lot. So many things could go wrong. She could have a relapse for starters. Every drug pusher out there is going to be all over her," Don said wearily. He knew his daughter still struggled every single day with the thoughts of using again, just as he thought of drinking.

"I think she's stronger than that. She's been sober for fifteen years now," Fin reassured. And he believed it too, he knew Dollie wouldn't risk using again.

"True. I don't know Fin. I hate to ask this, but would you help me talk to her? You've always been good at calming her down when I put my foot in my mouth," Don asked. Fin smirked. Boy, was that an understatement. He couldn't begin to count the times he kept the southern bell from shooting her father in the kneecaps from his poorly-chosen words.

"Of course. When you going to tell her?"

"Tomorrow, first thing in the morning. We need to get this case started as soon as possible."

"Alright. And just an idea, we should get John in on the undercover work as well. She'll feel more comfortable that way," Fin said. Don raised his eyebrows.

"You think so? I figured she'd feel more comfortable dancing half naked in front of you, considering she's done it in the past," Don grimaced at his choice of words. He could have put that a little more eloquently.

"That's been a while though, Captain. I think she'd feel more comfortable giving John a lap dance than me," Fin shrugged. Don furrowed his brows.

"Why the hell would she be so comfortable?" Don said, his tone taking on a fatherly attribute. Fin mentally kicked himself in the ass. Shit. Sam hadn't told Don about her and Munch yet. It seemed he would get that honor.

"Well, ya see, Sam and John have went out a couple of times these past few weekends-"

"WHAT!"

Fin pinched the bridge of his nose. This was going to be a long night.

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"Hell yeah! You got this one in the bag, Munch!" El said as he pumped a fist in the air. The boys team had won three rounds now. Sam sighed and turned to her best friend.

"I'm sorry, Liv!" she pouted.

"It's not a biggy. You're doing good for a beginner!" Liv reassured her friend. Sam smiled and turned her attention back to the table. Liv released a breath. She wasn't angry with Sam, it was after all a game, but she had a competitive side to her. She hated losing.

The girls groaned as John hit the last of their balls into a pocket. Elliot clapped. "Alright, knock that eight ball in so we can put these girls out of their misery!" he hollered. Liv glared at her semi-drunk partner and pinched his arm. Elliot laughed and pulled her in by the waist and kissed her tenderly on the cheek. Liv stared at him in shock and then turned her head to Sam, who was grinning like a mad woman. She could only imagine what her friend was thinking. Liv slowly relaxed and enjoyed the feeling of his strong arm wrapped pleasantly around her waist.

Sam pouted as she watched her partner line up a perfect shot. She really hated that she and Liv were going to lose again. She bit her lip and suddenly laughed lowly as an idea struck her. She took her purse from the table and tossed it under a near-by bench. "Oops!" she said innocently. Liv and Elliot gave her a curious look.

"Did you just throw your purse?" Liv said amused. Sam winked and crawled underneath the bench. A white cue ball sailed across the room a second later.

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John ignored the chatter of his companions as he stalked around the table looking for the perfect shot. He almost felt bad for his partner, the pout on her face was quiet heart-wrenching, but he knew she wouldn't like it if he let her win.

Ah, there it is. He had finally found the perfect angle. It was an easy shot, there was no way to miss it. He bent over and placed the stick accordingly, taking extra time to reassure himself that the shot would be perfect. He looked up to smile haughtily at his partner as he made the shot.

_Lace._

That was the first thing he saw when he looked up. His partner was on her hands and knees under a bench. Her teasingly short dress had lifted up past her hips, giving him a perfect view of her ass. She was wearing a sheer, lace red thong that barely covered what it needed too, exposing him to a rather tantalizing view of her bare ass. He finally got to see the end of the dragon's tail that was on her thigh. The tail curved around the underside of her left cheek and ended halfway up.

He only came back to the present at Elliot's outraged scream.

"John! What the hell! You had that shot! How the hell could you scratch?" Elliot had both hands in the air. He ignored the man's bellows when his partner locked eyes with him as she pulled her dress back down. She bit her lip and sauntered over slowly to him.

"Sorry, dropped my purse," Sam said smugly as she placed it on the table beside of her partner. John stared at her, mouth open and face red.

"You-you," he stuttered. Sam raised an eyebrow at him.

"Are you going to stand in the way all day? Or are you going to move aside so Liv can shoot?" she said in a cocky voice. John managed to close his mouth and side stepped, keeping his hands in front of his lap. He was more than aware of the noticeable tent in his pants.

Liv easily made the two remaining shots and sunk the eight ball, giving the girls their first victory. "Alright!" Liv yelled as she and her friend high-fived. Elliot crossed his arms and mumbled cheater in Sam's direction. He had an idea of what she'd done. Sam heard him and stuck her tongue out at him.

"Okay, I think we should end the night with our victory, what do you guys think?" Liv suggested as she stifled a yawn. It was one in the morning, and they all had work tomorrow.

"Sounds good to me. You're going to have to drag me out of bed tomorrow," Elliot sighed. He could already sense the impending headache he was going to have.

"Yeah, I'm pretty tired. What about you, partner?" Sam asked. John nodded in agreement, a dazed look still on his face. Liv smirked. She had to admit, Sam had a set of balls on her. She didn't think she'd be able to flash Elliot just to win a game of pool.

Then again, Elliot's hand did feel awfully good on her hip. So, maybe she would.

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"You're awfully quiet," Sam said. It had been over two blocks, and her partner hadn't said one word. She really hoped he wasn't mad at her for flashing him. Maybe she went too far.

"Huh?" he asked. Sam frowned.

"Why are you so quiet?" she asked.

"Just tired is all," he replied vaguely. Sam sighed. John really was the worst liar in the world.

"Are you mad at me?" she asked quietly after a minutes more of silence. John stopped and took on a look of pure surprise.

"No, why on earth would I be mad at you?" he asked. Sam blushed and looked down at her feet. She took her bottom lip between her teeth, immediately catching John's attention. He really needed to break her of that seductive habit.

"You know, for what I did back there," she trailed off. She looked up quickly at his chuckle.

"No, I'm not mad!" he kissed her forehead and smiled. It was the same smile he used when she knew he was amused by something she had said. Her brows furrowed. What was funny about that?

"Are you sure? Cause you haven't said two words since we left-"

Her sentence halted as he roughly pressed her to him. She gasped at the hardness pressed against her stomach. "No, I'm not mad. Quite the opposite really," he whispered in her ear. Her breathing came out in shallow pants and she gripped the front of his shirt.

"Oh," she said breathlessly. Her brain had become foggy. The only thing registering right now was the feeling of him pressed up against her. That familiar feeling of warmth flooded over her, stronger this time.

"Come home with me?" he asked. He stared at her intently, and there was no mistaking the meaning of his words. Sam bit her lip. Did she really want this? Her body was screaming yes, but her brain wasn't so sure. John sensed her internal battle and kissed her gently on the lips.

"I meant what I said earlier. I want to do this right. I'm not talking about sex. And if anything makes you uncomfortable at all, we'll stop, okay?" he said gently. Sam felt like crying from the sincerity in his voice. She nodded her head without another thought and eagerly started walking again, practically dragging him along. John chuckled as he finally caught up with her pace.

"Eager are we?" he teased. Sam said nothing but made a sound similar to a grunt of agreement. It took them less than ten minutes to walk the remaining block. No sooner had he gotten the key in the lock and twisted it, Sam had quickly drug him inside.

John happily allowed her to pull him to her by his shirt, his lips meeting eagerly with her own. He pushed her back against the door and pressed himself hard against her. His hands massaged slowly up her thighs. He paused to flip the band of her thong teasingly before continuing to rub soothing circles up her side with his thumbs.

Sam felt a feeling of lightheadedness come over her as he probed her mouth with his tongue and left her skin tingling with every stroke of his fingers. This slow pace was maddening. She gasped as his mouth left her own and trailed hot kisses down her neck. He nipped her collarbone and she arched into him, trying to pull him closer to where she needed. His hands continued to rise higher until his thumbs grazed the underside of her breasts.

Her eyes suddenly flew open and met his brown ones. His gaze was curious and hesitant. He saw the anxious look on her face and quickly slid his hands back down to her hips. He nuzzled her cheek softly in a wordless apology. "We should probably get some sleep, huh?" he whispered rather hoarsely. Sam bit her lip and looked away. She mentally cursed her insecurities. She felt like a child.

"Yeah, guess so," she whispered back, hating the wavering in her voice. John tilted her chin to look at him. She expected a pitying look, but found nothing but sincerity.

"Hey," he said gently, "There's no pressure, ok?"

"I know. I want to, John, but I-" she trailed off, at a loss for words. He stroked her bottom lip with his thumb.

"It'll take time," he said gently. After working in sex crimes for years now, John knew it sometimes took victims a while to feel comfortable in any sort of sexual situation. Seeing as how Sam had grown up her whole life with abuse, it was going to be a challenging obstacle to overcome. He knew not to test her boundaries. He'd go with her pace.

"I know. It's just frustrating!" sighed. She buried her face in his neck. Maybe she wasn't so cut out for this dating stuff. What kind of woman couldn't have a make out session without freaking out?

"It just takes time," he repeated. He ran his hands up and down her arms and kissed her on the nose. "Now come on, we have to get up for work in five hours!" he drug his slightly pouting partner into the bedroom. He released her hand and threw open the closet door.

He tossed a large T-shirt in her direction before turning to find a pair of sweat pants to sleep in. He turned back around and gave his partner a slightly confused look. She was eyeing the T-shirt and biting her lip in thought. She slowly glanced up at him through lidded eyes and stepped forward. She handed him back the T-shirt. John shook his head confused.

"What are you-?" he stopped short as her hand reached around to pull the zipper of her dress down. She never broke eye contact with him as she slipped the arms of the dress off. With a shimmy of her hips, the garment fell into a pool at her feet.

Sam watched as his eyes drifted down and took in the contour of her body. His eyes were darkened, and his breath came out uneven. It was both frightening and empowering to know she was affecting him that way.

John felt his mouth go dry and time stop around him when she hesitantly stepped forward and began unbuttoning his shirt. He cleared his throat in attempt to regain his voice.

"What are you doing?" he asked. She paused and met his eyes.

"You want me to be comfortable, right?" she asked quietly, almost as if she was afraid to speak up.

"Of course," he replied, watching as she carefully undid each button.

"Well, I don't sleep in clothes," she stated matter-of-factly. John chuckled at her logic as she slipped the shirt off from his shoulders. She paused with her hand on his belt and looked up at him with questioning eyes. When he didn't stop her, she quickly loosened the belt and pulled down his slacks in one long tug. She released a breath and closed her eyes briefly.

"Okay!" she said happily. She gave him a dazzling smile and led him to the bed. John smiled as he allowed himself to get pulled into her awaiting arms. He knew in some weird way, that Sam had just taken a huge leap of faith.

"Comfortable now?" he asked.

"Very," she mumbled. Truth be told, she was rather enjoying the skin on skin contact.

"Good," he ran a hand up and down her bare back, marveling at how soft she was. She kissed him softly and ran a hand down his chest.

"Night Munchies," she whispered.

"Night Hillbilly," he chuckled when she sleepily pinched him.

He didn't know how many minutes had passed before his partner's breathing evened out, telling him that she had finally fallen asleep. He sighed. He really didn't see himself falling asleep anytime soon, not when his half naked partner was curled up so close to his side. The innocent look on her face as she disrobed in front of him combined with her sinful choice of undergarments was almost too much to take.

He really needed a cold shower.

**OHMYGOD. I am soooo sorry about such a long update! My birthday and Christmas were a nightmare, as was New Year's... Family problems -_-**

**I know I said we were getting darker this chapter, but I needed to give some fluff first. I'm not entirely sure I like this chapter! I've redone it 2937429374 times now, so feedback would be ****REALLY**** appreciated! **

**Again, SORRY FOR THE LATE UPDATE! Reviews and Comments are welcome, as always! Thanks to all my loyal reviewers and Readers! **


	12. Backwards Rhythm

**BACKWARDS RHYTHM**

**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own these characters! Well…cept for Sam. **

"What's this all about, Daddy?" Sam asked as she took a seat in front of her father's desk. Fin took a seat beside her. He had a rather fidgety look about him, constantly moving. She hadn't been at work for five minutes before Don and Fin drug her in the captain's quarters.

"Well for starters, don't you think I would like to know who my daughter's dating?" he tossed a twizzler at her head. She dodged and picked it off her lap and nibbled at it, her cheeks flushing red. She tossed an evil look at Fin and narrowed her eyes.

"And, exactly, where did you hear that?" she asked her father, though still glaring at her friend.

"A reliable source!" he answered. Sam snorted in a very un-lady-like fashion.

She pointed at Fin with her remaining piece of twizzler, "Tattle-tale!" she hissed. Fin raised his hands up defensively.

"Hey now, don't blame me! I thought you would have told him by now!" he said. Sam opened her mouth, but was cut off by her father.

"It doesn't matter!" he gave the younger detectives a stern glare until they both receded, "The point is, you know you should have told me the minute you two decided to get involved romantically, and not just because I'm your father. You both have to go under evaluation to make sure you both can still be partners and withhold your civil duties."

Sam sighed, "I know daddy. But in my defense, I'm new to this stuff," she said quietly. Don's eyes softened.

"Yeah, I know, Kiddo. Just make sure you and John get evaluated ASAP. The last thing I want is 1pp up my ass," he said.

"Will do. Now if that's all," she got up from her seat, "I'm really craving my morning cup of coffee," she turned to leave.

"Actually, that's not all," Don said hesitantly. The change in his tone of voice made her slowly sit back down.

"Alright, then tell me what this little powwow is really about," she said wearily. Don and Fin glanced at each other.

"Do you remember Nathan Yates?" he asked. Was he kidding? Of course she remembered that slimy sonovabitch. He would hold her paycheck from her until she gave him a lap dance.

"What about him," she asked stiffly.

"You know how he used to own that strip joint?" Fin asked.

"No shit. Stop beating around the bush and tell me what's going on," she said exasperatingly, trading her attention between the two men.

"Alright, here it is," Don leaned forward, "He now owns a high end burlesque club. There have been complaints that the dancers are being molested," he paused and watched her knuckles turn white from her grip on the chair, "A call came in last night. He's escalating. He nearly killed a girl."

"Jesus," she muttered. She rubbed her eyes, suddenly feeling very tired. "Alright, so what does this have to do with me?"

"You were always Yate's favorite dancer," Don said quietly. Sam's eyes widened and her mouth dropped. Fin rolled his eyes. Don had finally put his foot in his mouth, and it seemed it was now his turn to pull it out.

"What dumbass is trying to say," he said, ignoring Don's glare, "is that you're the best qualified. The club he owns is very high end. He won't hire just anyone."

"But he'd hire Dollie, right?" she scoffed.

"Exactly. It would take another cop months to get into his inner ring, and someone will die before then," Fin said matter-of-factly.

"What if he knows I'm a cop?" she asked.

"We already thought of that. The informants we have on the streets say no one knows you're on the force," Cragen answered. He watched his daughter mull it over, frown lines making her look her age for once.

"So," she said slowly, "You want me to pose as Dollie, and do what?" she asked.

"Yates was always interested in you more than any other dancer back in the day," Fin began, "So, you're defiantly going to be his next target. All we have to do is wait until he tries something, then book him," he said. He made it sound so simple.

"We'll send in Fin as your personal body guard. The dancers also give private shows to men of their choice. We'll use that as a way of passing information back and forth. We'll send in John to be the infor-"

"No." Sam said sternly.

"What do you mean no?" Cragen said, dumbfounded.

"I mean no. I don't want John to be the informant. Send Elliot in as my body guard, make Fin the informant!" She snapped. Fin frowned.

"Why don't you want John to do it?" Fine asked. Sam turned her glare to her friend.

"I just don't," she turned her attention back to her dad, "I'm serious. Make Fin the informant, and Elliot the bodyguard." Her voice was ice cold. Cragen cleared his throat.

"That won't work. Elliot's made a bust there before. They know he's a cop," he stated.

"Fine. Then make John the bodyguard and Fin the informant," she said. Fin shook his head.

"That won't work, Dolls. First off, you really expect them to believe Munch is a body guard? No offense, but he isn't bouncer material. Second of all, everybody knows we aren't like that," Fin stated. Sam growled as she stood up and slammed her hands on the desk in front of her.

"Then I'm not doing it!" she yelled. Don carefully stood and fixed her with a chastising glare.

"I know this is hard for you, but there are women out there that are going to die if you don't do this. Don't you remember what it's like!" he said. Sam's shoulders drooped. Yes, she remembered exactly what it was like to be in that situation and not be able to fight back.

"I'll do it, but not with John!" she said.

"You're going to have to. There's no other detective able to go undercover right now! So swallow your damned pride and do your job!" he yelled. Sam hissed and grabbed the glass mug off his desk and tossed it against the wall, enjoying the sound the glass made as it shattered. Don said nothing as his daughter threw open his office door with enough force to chip the paint on the wall behind it.

"Well," Fin said quietly after a moment of stunned silence, "that went well, don't you think?"

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John had started to worry when he heard his partner yell from inside the captain's office. It intensified with the sound shattering of glass. Worry then turned to panic at the harsh force the office door was flung open, and the murderous look on her face.

"Sam?" he asked. She shoved him roughly out of her way and continued walking away. "Hey!" he said as he caught her by the hand. She yanked her hand free with a violent tug.

"Leave me alone!" she growled without looking back. His mouth dropped as he watched his partner flee to the fire escape to the roof.

"John!" he turned his attention to the captain. He was leaning against the doorframe, hand rubbing the back of his head in an anxious manner. What the hell was going on? He made his way slowly to the office, mind reeling as to why his partner was so disturbed.

He took a seat, halfway surprised to see Fin beside him. "What's going on?" he said, getting straight to the point.

"Do want to do this, or shall I?" Fin asked. He smirked as the captain waved a hand at him. "Alright, back in the day Dolls and I used to work at a strip joint under a guy called Nathan Yates. Back then he was just your common slime ball. He's somehow managed to come into ownership of a high class burlesque club. He's started molesting the dancers, and as of yesterday, he almost killed a girl," Fin paused and gave John time to digest the information. "Yates always had a thing for Dollie back in the day. Seeing as how he won't let just any old dancer in, the best option is for Sam to go undercover as Dollie." John frowned.

"Isn't there anyone else?" he asked hopefully.

"No, it'll take too long for him to accept someone into his inner circle. And there's no guarantee he'd be into them. We know for a fact he'd set his sight on Dolls," Fin said. John took off his glasses and pinched the space between his eyes.

"Alright, so what's stopping him from doing anything to Sam when he goes after her?" he asked.

"I'm going in as a body guard, just like I was in the old days. The minute he starts anything I'll drag him off, and beat the shit out-"

"Odafin!" Don warned.

"I'll drag him off of her and cuff him," he amended. John and Fin shared a smirk.

"We're going to need a contact," Don began, "which is where you come in. Every dancer is inclined to give private shows to whomever she wants. You'll be a wealthy client, and she'll take you in the back to the private rooms. She'll then tell you everything new and hopefully give us a list of the victims." John raised his eyebrows.

"And she's agreed to all this?" John asked. The other two detectives glanced at each other and shifted uncomfortably.

"More or less," Don said.

"Meaning?" John urged.

"She isn't happy about the idea of being Dollie again, but she's willing. She's more upset over the fact of you being the informant. That surprised him.

"Why?" he asked. Fin shrugged.

"You two are involved romantically, yes?" Don asked. John stiffened and glanced at the captain out of the corner of his eye. Don rolled his eyes. "Just answer the question, Munch."

"Well, obviously, you already know the answer to that," he replied.

Ignoring his snide remark Don continued, "I don't think she wants you to see her like that," he said thoughtfully.

"What do you mean?" John asked.

"Think about it. Sure, she won't be on a pole, but it's still a burlesque club. You're going to have to watch her dance on top of other men," he finished. John felt his jaw clench. He hadn't thought of that. The other men noticed John's sudden threatening demeanor.

"I need your head in the game, John," Cragen said sharply to get his attention. "There's going to be plenty of drug pushers around her, and the last thing she needs is to think you're angry with her.

"I wouldn't get mad at her over that. She'd be doing her job!" John said defensively.

"What he means is," Fin said, stepping in again to remove the foot out of the captain's mouth," _we_ know that, but she won't. So keep your cool, got it?"

"Got it. When is all this happening?" John asked through gritted teeth. He didn't like this one bit.

"Tonight. We need to get her in there as soon as possible. We won't send you in for another week, so she has time to get closer Yates," Cragen answered.

"Alright, is that all?" John asked, though he didn't wait for the answer. He quickly and quietly exited the office.

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This couldn't be happening. Sam fisted her hands in her hair and took a deep breath. She had worked so hard to get away from the persona that was Dollie, and now she was getting drug back into it, just like that. Words couldn't describe how it felt to have sweaty, alcohol ridden men grab and writhe underneath you. Not to mention dancing around half naked, knowing every male occupant in the room was undressing you with their eyes. It was disgusting.

But she could handle that.

What she couldn't handle was John being there. Seeing her dance on top of men with hungry hands and eyes. Dancing around in skimpy outfits. Having men talk in her ear like John was supposed to. Just the thought of it disgusted her. And if it disgusted _her_, what was _he_ going to think?

She screamed and punched the side of the concrete wall. She cussed and shook her head, frowning at the blood running from her knuckles.

"You really should stop punching things," John's voice said softly. She jumped and turned swiftly, keeping her hand behind her. He walked up to her slowly and gently pried her arm back around. He frowned at her bloodied hand and took out a handkerchief from his pocket. He dabbed at the blood and tied it tightly around her rapidly swelling knuckles. Sam bit her lip and looked over the side at the city below. She always felt like such a child around him.

"I'm guessing they told you about the case?" she said nonchalantly. She was using the same flat tone of voice she always did when she tried blocking him out.

"Yes," he said carefully.

"And?"

"And I'm worried about you," he said. Sam glanced at him quickly.

"Why?"

"You know why," he fought to keep the agitation from his voice.

"I'll be fine. I've done it all before," she said dejectedly. John sighed. She was shutting him out.

"Hey," he turned her chin to look at him, "That's not the point. You shouldn't have to do this," he said softly.

"Yeah, well I'm the best for the job," she tore her chin free and looked away. John sighed.

"Why didn't you want me to be your contact?" he asked. She was quiet for a few more minutes.

"Because I don't want my boyfriend watching me grind and get groped by pieces of shit," she almost hissed.

"It's not like you're doing it willingly. You're doing it because you have to," he urged. He moved in to kiss her, but she jumped backwards like she was burned. She caught the look of pain that crossed over his face.

"Yeah, I guess so," she looked away, "Look, John, I'm not so sure that-that this was such a good idea," she motioned between them, still refusing to look at him.

"What?" he asked sharply. She cringed and backed away, heading towards the fire escape.

"I mean, I just don't think this is going to work-"

"Stop," he growled lowly as he grabbed her good hand. She winced at his tight grasp.

"Stop what?" she asked, still refusing to look at him.

"Stop running from me," he said quietly. He stared at her until she finally looked up at him. She suddenly embraced him, her arms thrown around his neck.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. He didn't have to feel her shoulders shake against him to know she was crying.

"Hey," he said as he rubbed his hands soothingly up and down her back, "Hey, it's alright. Stop crying, please?" If there was one thing John Munch couldn't stand it was hearing or seeing a woman cry. Especially, when it was _his_ woman.

"Sorry," she murmured again into his chest.

"It's alright. Just stop pushing me away. I'm not going anywhere," he whispered in her ear. She hesitantly looked up at him through wet eyelashes.

"Sorry," she said once again. John kissed her lovingly on the nose.

"Stop saying that," he scolded. He kissed her gently on the lips and laid his forehead against hers. Even though he hated to see her cry, she was one of those women that looked beautiful doing it. Her eyes were shinier than normal, and her cheeks were flushed slightly.

It was in that moment that he realized, with a start, he had fallen in love with his partner. Not just in love, but head over heels. He had never felt for anyone like this, not even Gwen, his first love. When did this happen? They'd only been seeing each other for two weeks, but he knew it happened before long before then. He'd analyze it later.

He took a shaky breath and kissed her again, slower this time. They didn't part until the lack of oxygen was becoming evident. He watched her slowly open her eyes, a smile was tugging at the corner of her lips.

"Ya know, these next few weeks are goin' to be hard," she said.

"Yeah, I got rather used to you sleeping in my bed," he agreed. She sighed and pressed herself closer to him.

"This means I gotta dye my hair red again," she said wearily. John chuckled and ran his fingers through her curls.

"True, but I liked your red hair," he said.

"Really?" she looked skeptical.

"Yes, really," he promised.

"Hmm, if you really think so," she sighed. "I guess I should go back down there and apologize for breaking dad's favorite cup."

"Probably so," he agreed. She stiffened suddenly and gasped.

"What's wrong?" he asked, immediately worried.

"Liv and El," she whispered, her eyes widening.

"What about them?" he asked, thoroughly confused.

"They don't know. They don't know I'm Dollie," she said. John frowned. That was true.

"So? Let's go tell them," he urged. Sam scoffed and pushed him back a couple of inches.

"Ok, let's go tell them I used to be a stripper. No big deal, right!" she said angrily. John sighed.

"Sam, the minute they know why you were a-"

"No," she cut him off, "I don't want them knowing about anything." She looked serious, but John could tell she was scared underneath the façade.

"Why not?" he asked gently, stroking her cheek.

"Because," she softened at the touch, "I just don't want to go into that right now. I don't want them to know about my real dad, or what happened with Cassie and Davie."

"Why? They're your friends, Sam. They aren't going to judge you," he said.

"I know, but-"

"Do you trust them?" he asked, cutting her off.

"Yes," she answered without hesitation.

"Then tell them," he said simply. She bit her lip and frowned.

"Help me?" she asked hesitantly.

"Of course," he smiled and kissed her once more.

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Elliot sat, shocked, as he watched his partner and friend crying in each other's arms. He knew he had seen Sam from somewhere, he just didn't think it would be because she was a famous _stripper_. That didn't matter though. Her real father was lucky he was dead, because Elliot would have hunt the son of a bitch down himself and castrate him slowly with a rusty spoon.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" Liv asked, wiping tears from her eyes. Watching her best friend break down like that when she told her life's story was hard to watch and listen to.

"I don't know. Not something I like to talk about, I guess," Sam shrugged. Liv understood that completely. She kept the secret of her mother's alcoholism in the dark. She knew what it was like to ignore the past. If you didn't talk about it, part of you could forget it was real.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" El asked.

"Doesn't matter whether I want to or not. It has to be done. So I'll do it," Sam said quietly. The detectives nodded somberly.

"Alright, so now what?" Liv asked, "Captain said he's already got everyone's credentials changed, what's left to do?"

Sam smirked, "Dye my hair!" They two women perked up instantly at the mention of something girly to do.

"You're dying it that dark red again, right?" Liv asked. Sam nodded

"Yeah! Wanna help?" she asked.

"Let's do it!" the girls hopped up. Sam grabbed the bag off of her desk. Don had already grabbed the hair color for her last night. The two women fled to the bathrooms, leaving their smirking partners behind.

"What is it about Women and hair?" Elliot asked. John shrugged.

"I guess it's something like men and football," John replied. Elliot burrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

"But, you hate football?" he said. John smirked.

"Exactly. Which is why I guess we'll never understand!" the two men chuckled. They were silent for a few moments before El's face took on a more serious attribute.

"I can't believe she was Dollie," he said quietly, glancing quickly at the direction of the bathrooms.

"Yeah," John sighed.

"You remember Rutland?" he said hesitantly. John took off his glasses and nodded briefly, "You remember what he said about Sam killing her dad?" John nodded again. He knew Elliot was about to ask what he had been thinking for a while now. "You think she really did?" John set him with a serious gaze.

"Would you blame her?" he said blandly. He had thought long and hard about the prospect of his partner murdering her father. He had come to the decision that he would have done the same thing. While he didn't condone murder, it hardly seemed justified to call what she did a murder. More like ridding the world of a piece of shit.

"No," he answered honestly. He would have killed him too. "Has she actually told you that she killed him?"

"No, I haven't asked," John replied. He didn't plan on it either. He wasn't going to push her to talk. She'd hopefully open up to him more in time. Elliot hummed nonchalantly. This was quiet a lot to take in at one time. John put his glasses back on and gathered his files and paperwork. "Tell Sam I'm up on the roof when she comes out, alright?"

"Yeah, sure."

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"Hey there, Partner. You been up here this whole time?" Sam called as she walked onto the roof. John turned and tried to stop his mouth from dropping. She looked exactly like she did all those years ago in that bar. The exact same velvet colored hair, and the exact same black cocktail dress. She smiled shyly and twirled a now red curl around her finger.

"Well?" she asked. His silence was making her some-what nervous.

"You look good, red!" he said as he tugged on a curl. She smiled a relieved smile and wrapped her arms around his waist. John sighed and wrapped his arms around hers in return. They both knew what was coming.

"How long before you come to the club?" she asked quietly.

"Five days at least. Where will you be staying?" he asked. He ran a hand through her curls, taking in the way red splayed over his fingers.

"Fin and I will be sharing an apartment on the upper west side. What's going to be your cover story?" She buried her face in his chest, trying to capture his smell.

"My cover name is going to be Markus Andrews. I'm going to be a business man from queens that has pretty deep pockets," he stated blandly. He wasn't looking forward to this case at all.

"Did El say anything when Liv and I was dying my hair?" she changed the subject abruptly. John shrugged.

"Not really," he said. She sighed into his chest. Liv asked a ton of uncomfortable questions when they were alone.

"I'm glad I told them. Thank you," she said. John kissed her head.

"Don't thank me for that," he said as he tightened his hold on her. They both stood in deafening silence, dread filling in all the spaces in between. All too soon, he pulled her back and with a frowning face. "It's time for you and Fin to meet with Yates," he said sadly. Sam swallowed thickly.

"Yeah, I guess so," she said in a strained voice. They stood there for a beat, just looking at each other. Sam made a sound that was similar to a whine, and just like that, they were kissing. It was slow and full of a feeling neither of them felt comfortable trying to describe just yet. They pulled apart slowly, each with a slight look of shock and wonderment on their face.

"So I guess I'll see you in five days?" she said, her voice betraying her strong front. He stroked a finger down her cheek.

"Yeah," he agreed. They kissed gently once more, knowing this was the last they'd get to be like this for a while.

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The 'Roulette Burlesque' club was more high class than Sam had originally thought. The bouncer at the door immediately recognized her from her hair and tattoos and quickly ushered she and Fin inside. The room had high vaulted ceilings, and a vast stage. The bar was rather long, and wide, which meant it was also meant as a stage for entertainment. There were various women delivering drinks in costumes, most of which were maid outfits.

A flat chested blonde had just taken the stage in a red corset dress. She licked her lips teasingly at the men down below. A slow melody filled the room and the woman began to sing. And not too well at that. Sam cringed at her off key swooning. How the hell was this place so popular with such horrifying performances? Despite the hellacious sounds escaping her mouth, she knew how to grind on that microphone stand to make it look sinful. Every man (and some females too) was practically drooling at how she swiveled her hips.

"Wait here, Ms. Dolls," the doorman shouted over the music. Sam nodded and followed him to a door that was obscured from view by a large potted palm tree. The large man quickly ducked into the door, leaving Sam and Fin alone.

"Judging by the lack of talent they have, I'm sure he'll be eager to take your offer," Fin whispered in her ear. Sam snickered. While she wasn't vain about her singing abilities, she knew she sounded much better than the woman onstage. "Not to mention, you're defiantly the best looking," he muttered. He shuttered at the appearance of some of the woman floundering around. Most wore extreme amounts of makeup that did nothing to hide their sunken cheeks. They were all much too skinny and their hair lacked any form of luster. Most of these women were defiantly on some form of drug. A strain of worry seeped into Fin then. He'd have to really watch Sam on this, the last thing they needed was a relapse.

A few moments later, the bouncer reappeared at the doorway with a wide smile on his face. "Right this way, mam," he said eagerly. Sam gave him a seductive smile and followed him closely. Yates office was rather large, consisting of two couches and various chairs throughout the room. His desk was made from a heavy, deep colored wood and looked every definition of the word expensive. Behind said desk, sat the object of their assignment. Nathan Yates looked exactly the same as he did all those years ago, just with less hair. He was a small man, with a mouse-like appearance. His smile was crooked, and he had one gold tooth on the side. His hair was an off color gray and his hair line was receding.

"Dollie, is that really you?" he said as he got up and walked around the desk. He took her hands in his gnarled ones and smiled crookedly at her. Sam smiled coyly, hoping it didn't look like a grimace.

"In the flesh, sugar," she said, her demeanor immediately switching over to one of a seductress. He laughed and drew her into a tight hug before pulling her back to kiss her wetly on the mouth. Sam forced everything in her not to wipe her lips and spit.

"My God, how I've missed you, girl! You look good!" he eyed her up and down, noting that she had grown completely into the body of a woman. "Real good!" he emphasized it with a lick to his lips.

"Thank you, Mr. Yates. It's been a while, hasn't it?" she drawled. He nodded eagerly.

"It sure has, Dolls! Where have you been? Everyone says you just fell off the side of the earth," he grabbed her waist and pulled her down onto one of the couches. Fin took a seat opposite to them on the other couch. He wanted nothing more than to rip off the arm Yates had around her waist and beat him with it.

"Oh, just been taking some personal time for myself. Moved back to Tennessee for a while, but I started to miss the thrills up here. I see you've been doing very well for yourself," she nudged him playfully with her shoulder. He tightened his hold on her hip.

"Noticed that did ya? Finally saved up some money to get me someplace nice. Course, none of the girls can hold a candle to you, Doll," he purred at her. Her skin crawled as he traced a finger up her thigh. He paused and glared at the sound of Fin clearing his throat rather loudly.

"Oh yeah, it's you. What was your name again? Finland?" he said in a bored tone. Fin fixed him with a stern glare, but kept a smile on his face.

"The name's Fin," he said in false pleasantness.

"Alright, so why are you here?" he asked. Sam poked Yates in the side and smiled flirtatiously.

"Actually, that's why I'm here," she said. Yates immediately raised an interested eyebrow.

"Oh? Do tell," he said, moving closer and stroking a hand on her thigh.

"I'm in the business to make a comeback, interested?" she purred. His face lit up immediately at the offer.

"What made you want to work for me? When you could easily work at any club on this side of the country?" he asked skeptically.

"I'm not looking for fame, darling. Besides, I got my big start with you, so why not repeat history?" she said suggestively. He smiled coyly and rubbed his hand higher up her thigh.

"Alright, so what's he doing here?" he jerked a thumb towards Fin.

"I need protection, don't I?" she said simply.

"Yes, of course, but I have hired men for that now," he replied.

"Don't take this the wrong way, Mr. Yates, but you of all people can understand the need for trust in this industry," she petted the hand on her thigh. He mulled it over and glanced over at Fin.

"True. I guess I'll allow it. But I won't pay him, it'll have to come out of your paycheck!" he said sternly. Sam smiled and kissed him quickly on the cheek.

"Thank you! Now, about scheduling and bar hop hours-"

"Oh, no. Someone like you shouldn't have to serve drinks. You belong on a stage!" he said. Sam faked modesty.

"No, that's hardly fair, Nathan!" she took the liberty of calling him by his first name, "I'll be the newbie, it's only right I wait tables," she said. Yates shook his head.

"Absolutely not, Dollie," he stroked a finger down her jawline, pausing to rub a callused thumb over her bottom lip. She fought the urge to chomp down on it. She saw Fin stiffen and lean forward out of the corner of her eye.

"But you can't have me sing all day?" she said. His hand moved down to stroke her shoulder.

"Sure you can. I want you working 10 pm to 5am," he ordered. Sam felt her eyes widen. He noticed and chuckled.

"Long hours I know, but I'm sure you can handle it," he said reassuringly.

"I can, but not if that means singing the whole time. Please, let me bar hop? That was part of the fun!" she leaned closer and pouted, knowing he was a sucker for it. He sighed and squeezed the hand on her hip.

"Fine, just stop with the pouting. You'll waitress 10 pm to midnight, and then perform afterwards, that better?" he asked. Sam nodded. Five hours of dancing and singing was going to be hard to get used to again. "Now, let's talk payment."

Sam shifted uncomfortably. Her payment back in the day was usually a wad of cash and heroine, both of which she had to give Yates a lap dance to receive. The look he was giving her meant he was thinking the same thing. She shoved down her disgust and smiled at him. "Yes, go on?"

"Well, obviously you salary will be a lot higher than it used to be. It also depends on what money you want taken out for drugs. I'm doing great in business, and can get you however much you need," he said rather proudly.

"Just a couple of grams of china white, if you don't mind," she said with remembered fluency. Truth be told, she was nervous about having the drugs in her possession.

"That's my girl. Alright, I'll get everything calculated for you tonight, and let you know your exact salary by tomorrow," he paused and kissed her on the cheek, "I'm so happy to see ya, Dolls. You really did some growing up!" he stated for the second time that evening. His eyes trailed over her. She could practically feel her skin crawling. She gently pried herself loose and stood up.

"So I'm hired then?" she said sweetly. He stood up and cupped her cheeks in his hands.

"Of course you are! I missed my little southern belle!" he kissed her soundly on the lips, slipping his tongue quickly into her mouth. She squeezed her eyes shut and dug her nails into her sides. He parted slowly, humming in satisfaction. Sam quickly schooled her features into one of complete seduction.

"See you tomorrow, love," she purred. She traced a hand up his arm and stroked his face before smiling softly.

"Yes, you will," he said happily. She gave him one last smile before exiting the room, rather quickly. Fin was quick on her heels and lightly grabbed her hand.

"You alright?" he asked softly in her ear.

She squeezed his hand softly and said without stopping, "Just really need to get out of here." Fin nodded and released her hand.

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Fin glanced wearily at the bathroom door of their cover apartment they shared. Sam had been in there for a while, and he was sure she had thrown up. He rubbed his eyes wearily and downed the rest of his beer. He heard the lock click and snapped his head up. She looked like hell.

"You look like shit, kid," he said. She chuckled at him and plopped down on the couch beside him.

"Thanks, Odey!" she said sarcastically. She reached for a beer and scratched her thigh. She could almost still feel his hands on her. She shuttered at the memory of his tongue sliding into her mouth. Her stomach lurched at the thought and she quickly sat the beer back down.

"Hey, you alright?" Fin asked, noticing her distress. She gave him a weak smile and propped up against his side.

"Yeah, will be," she sighed. Fin wrapped an arm around her shoulder and leaned them both back against the back of the couch.

"Yeah, you will be. I don't think it'll take you too long to get back into the swing of things," he said softly. Sam nodded

"Yeah, probably. And I did kind of miss singing and dancing," she said, perking up slightly. Fin laughed softly. This woman was meant to be on a stage.

"I figured you did," he said. Sam nodded and sighed.

"When do you think John will come?" she asked softly.

"They said five days at the least. I say he'll come before a full week is up," he saw her face fall and smiled at her. "Ya think you can live without him for more than a day?" he said with dramatic flair. Sam glared at him and pinched his side.

"Shut up! I was just askin'!" she growled, her southern accent becoming more pronounced. Fin winced and rubbed his side.

"I was just kiddin', down killer!" he chortled. Sam stuck her tongue out at him. "You really like him, don't you?" he asked. Sam smiled shyly and nodded.

"Yeah, I do," she hid her grin behind her hand. Fin smiled and shook his head.

"I don't believe it," he said, laughing slightly.

"What?" she asked.

"Of all the men you could have ended up with, you choose a scrawny, paranoid, borderline-psychotic, big-nosed-"

Sam interrupted him with a loud slap to the back of his head.

**Shew, glad I finally got this chapter out of the way! I'm really glad you guys are liking the story so far! (: I will warn you, the story may get a little dark here soon, but I'll try to even it out with fluff (; As always, I'm hungry for feedback, so feed my hunger! Ideas and requests are always welcome! **


	13. Private Dancer

**PRIVATE DANCER**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own SVU or any original characters. –Much to my misfortune. **

John sighed as he slipped into the expensive cashmere suit he was given. It had been six days since he last seen or heard from Sam, and truth be told, he was going a little crazy. He was getting frustrated with himself in all honesty. She had plagued his thoughts for six whole days and nights now. Everything reminded him of her. He still caught a whiff of her floral scent throughout his apartment. He couldn't sleep because he'd reach out for a body beside him that wasn't there. Then there was the little mystery of just when he had fallen in love with her.

John mentally growled at himself. He had thought long and hard on this. He couldn't pinpoint the exact moment, but he knew it had to be sometime around that day on the roof. The first time she opened up to him, and let him in just a little. Then there was the kiss on his cheek in the dungeon-like basement of Kyle Rutland's hideout. A simple kiss on the cheek shouldn't have made his heart flutter the way it had.

He tightened his tie and smoothed the dress jacket down. He gauged his reflection in the mirror. He looked…_expensive_. The suit was finely tailored, and one look at it let you know it was no commonwealth suit. His shoes were alligator, and though sharp, were killing his feet. He put on his shaded glasses and gave himself an approving nod. He may look like a million bucks, but he certainly didn't feel it.

He was worried about how tonight was going to go. He was more than excited to see Sam. What he wasn't so excited about, was how everyone else was going to react around her. Just the thought of some man grabbing at her hips made his mouth go dry. John cleared his throat and grabbed his coat, leaving what was now going to be his cover apartment for the next few weeks.

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Sam huffed as she stepped into her slinky waitress outfit. The top was a black lace corset, much to her dismay. Her size C's didn't like being so cooped up. The bottoms were a pair of barely-there red booty shorts. They were so short; you could plainly see the tail of her dragon tattoo that flirted up to the middle of her left cheek. Underneath the shorts were large-holed fishnet stockings. She slipped her feet into a pair of red high heels and groaned at her reflection in the mirror. This uniform was even more whorish than the one she had on last night. Not to mention she hated fish net. It obscured the view to the dragon tattoo on her thigh.

She knew John would come tonight, she could feel it. It would be too obvious to come exactly one week after hiring her. Business had all but tripled since her return, and the club was crowded from midnight onward. She had slowly begun gaining Yates's trust again, and was learning some very valuable information. Information, which needed to be given to John immediately.

She sighed and tried in vain to pull the shorts down lower. She gave up quickly, knowing it was futile. A soft knock came to her dressing room door, and she knew immediately who it was by the pattern. "Come in, Odey!" she called. Fin quickly entered and shut the door behind him. He opened his mouth to speak, but roughly snapped it shut, raising his eyebrows at her.

"Damn!" he said while smiling. He dramatically raked his eyes down her legs. She rolled her eyes and stifled a giggle.

"Did you want something? Or just here to ogle?" she threw her hands on her hips. Fin placed a hand to his head and sighed comically.

"Ya know, I think I had something important to say, but I can't for the life of me remember what it w-"

"Odafin!" she snapped. He smiled at her. He could sense her apprehension about tonight.

"He's here," he said calmly, knowing she'd know who he was referring to. She sighed and rubbed a hand over her eyes, mindful not to smear her makeup.

"Already? She said dejectedly. She thumbed the hem of her shorts once more.

"Yeah, he's been here for about ten minutes, waiting on a drink," he hinted. Sam sighed and tossed him a look.

"Yeah, alright. Guess we get this show on the road then?" she said. Fin nodded and patted her shoulder. This was going to be a long night.

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John scanned the room for a familiar head of red curls. Finding none, he inspected the other scantily clad females in the room. All of them wore identical blue corset tops, with insanely short shorts and fishnet underneath. This may have been enticing, if they had any meat on them and didn't look like walking death. Even though he had never worked in narcotics, he could tell a junkie when he saw one, and he would bet his pension that every single one of these girls was hooked on something. You could plainly count the ribs on them, and their cheeks were so sunken, they looked like skeletons.

Did he mention the woman on the stage sounded like a dying cow? He flinched as she tried to hit a high note and ended up making a god-awful screeching noise. Judging by the little eye candy and horrible talent, Yates was most likely more than willing to take up Sam's offer.

"See anything you like, sugar?" a familiar voice purred in his ear. Juggled out of his thoughts, he turned swiftly around. Sam propped up against the table and smirked as his eyes widened. She was the only one in a red uniform, and there were obvious reasons as to why they wanted the attention focused on Sam. She was the only woman in the whole joint that had curves. Her tanned skin almost glowed under the lights. Dear lord, how the hell was he going to make it through a whole night with her dressed like that?

"Mmm, matter of fact I do," he looked at her over his glasses and smirked. Sam smiled coyly and bent forward, taking extra time to arch into the movement. She propped her elbows up on the table and laid her head on her hands.

"What's your poison, cutie?" she swooned.

"How about a martini to start with?" he replied. Sam nodded and poked him playfully on the nose.

"Sure thing!" she smiled at him brightly and turned to walk to the bar. John watched as she walked away, her hips swaying more than her usual strut. She looked over her shoulder at him half way to the bar and smiled seductively. He swallowed thickly. This really was going to be a long and _hard_ night.

She was back in a second, a tall glass in hand. She sat it down in front of him and bent down low to whisper in his ear, "It's mostly water." Her breath tickled his ear and he smiled, as if he was told something particularly interesting. She leaned up, mock seductive smile in place. He could tell she was tired. Though she still had more weight on her than the rest, he could tell she had dropped a few pounds. And makeup didn't hide the dark circles under her eyes. He gave her a swift, gentle smile, knowing she would catch it. She in return, ran a hand down his arm and squeezed his hand, letting him know she did indeed catch it. She quickly let go and resumed a more playful posture.

"If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask me!" she winked at him and strutted away. Munch sighed and attempted to keep his eyes above her waist level. He sipped on his drink, cringing slightly at the taste of water with a drop of vodka in it. He quickly sat the glass back down on the table when he saw a man grab her hips and pull her onto his lap. His grip tightened as the man buried his face in her neck. She laughed loudly, making it look like she was enjoying it. The smile didn't reach her eyes, giving away her distress. She cast him a quick glance, almost looking like an apology. The drunken man's hand skirted up her thigh. He had to look away.

His eyes settled on Fin, a couple of yards away. The look on his face meant he shared John's disgust. Fin nodded a bare shake of his head. John tipped his glasses down and turned his attention back to Sam. She had managed to wiggle her way off his lap, and was trying to console the man. She patted his cheek and quickly side-stepped yet another attempt to grab her. His knuckles turned white from grasping his glass too tight. He shut his eyes and took a deep breath. He sipped on the gross contents of his glass, trying not to gag at the taste. He hated vodka to begin with, and watered down vodka was even worse.

He watched as she rubbed a hand teasingly up another patron's arm. He was younger, looking barely out of high school. The kid blushed at the attention and scooted closer to her on his chair. She laughed huskily at something he said and moved a stray strand of hair from his face. John couldn't stop the growl coming out of his throat. Sam must have caught the look of anger on his face, because she quickly stepped away from the boy and threw a worried glance over her shoulder.

_Damnit!_ He cursed himself over and over again in his head. He did exactly what he vowed not to do; show his anger. He could tell by the constant worried glances that she thought he was angry with her. _Shit!_ He sighed and downed the rest of his horrendous drink. The next time she glanced, he motioned her over with a nod of his head.

She slinked up to him, though there was a look of apprehension about her. "Need another drink?" it came out somewhat timid. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her onto his lap. She gasped in surprise as he wrapped his arms securely around her.

"Actually, I have something else in mind," he said gruffly. Sam stifled a giggle and twisted around to see him.

"Sorry sir, I'm not on the menu!" she giggled at his fake pout, wanting nothing more to kiss it away.

"Then I guess I'll settle for another one of those special martinis of yours," he said sadly. She laughed and kissed him on the cheek, lingering next to his ear.

"I'm sorry," he barely caught the whisper before she jumped out of his arms and sauntered back to the bar. He frowned at her back side. He really needed to get a hold of himself.

She was back in less than a minute, another horrifying concoction in hand. He took it from her and held onto her hand, rubbing his thumb in circles as he often did when they were alone. She smiled softly at him, understanding the silent meaning that he wasn't angry. She kissed his cheek once more, making sure to rub the lipstick off his face gently afterwards. "Will that be all, Mr..?" she hinted.

"Markus Andrews," he said, taking the bait. He kissed her hand, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Andrews," she purred. He smiled as she bit her lip at him over her shoulder and walked away. He didn't even attempt to keep his eyes off her retreating long legs.

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Fin smirked as he watched his partners skirt around each other for the better part of two hours. John's eyes followed her around the room, sharpening when another man grabbed her. She continuously glanced at him through the night, giving him lidded gazes or biting her lip. Every time she passed there'd be lingering little touches here and there.

It was amusing as hell to watch.

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"Another martini, Mr. Andrews?" Sam asked. John shook his head. Drinking three martinis in a row and not appearing the least bit tipsy may seem suspicious.

"I think I'll try a coke for now," he replied. She nodded, knowing his reasoning behind his decision. She was back quickly, cold glass in hand.

"Here ya go, Sugar. I'm afraid that'll be the last drink I can get you for a while. It's my turn on stage," she said as she leaned down to tuck a stray hair off his forehead. John frowned and grabbed her hand. He gave it a gentle squeeze. She smiled and kissed him softly on the corner of his mouth. "Hope you enjoy the show," she whispered softly. She turned and left, a little less swing in her step.

John sighed and sipped on his coke. At least he was in the front row. The stage was large, and he happened to have the table right up front. He glanced to the left and right, noting a few other tables that were relatively close to the stage. He closed his eyes and inwardly groaned. There were going to be men all over her. He really shouldn't have been the informant on this case. Cragen should have found another detective. He took another gulp of his coke and placed his head in his hand.

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Sam took a deep breath as she stood in her dressing room. She was on the verge of having a panic attack. She hated performing. It always started with a normal set of songs. Then it progressed to dancing in barely there outfits. Then there was the strip tease at the end. If that wasn't bad enough, the yowls and grabs was the icing on the cake.

Just last night, the minute she stepped off stage from a dance number, a rather large man pulled her down by the waist, shoved his tongue down her throat, and grabbed at her chest. She managed to get away, with Fin's help, but it reminded her how this type of life really was. The fact that John was going to get a front row seat to that made her nervous as hell.

She shook herself from her worries and peeled off the tight clothes with disgust. She tossed them on the couch behind her and selected her next outfit. It was a silk red dress that ended mid-thigh and had a sweetheart neckline, tying behind her neck. No sooner had she slipped it off the hanger an abrupt knock came at her door. She swallowed, recognizing the pattern. Not waiting for an invitation, Nathan Yates slammed open the door and stepped inside, carefully closing it behind him.

He smiled and looked her body up and down. "Really? Black silk bra and panties? What happened to that neon pink set you used to love so much?" he rasped. He came closer, making Sam take two steps backwards.

"We all have to grow up sometimes, don't we?" she said, trying to keep the fear out of her voice. He stalked closer and pulled her roughly against him.

"You defiantly did that, didn't you!" he laughed haughtily. Sam forced a laugh.

"So, did you need anything specific? Or did you come here to comment on my choice of undergarments?" she said cockily. He buried his face in her neck, inhaling. She tried to keep her body from stiffening.

"Actually, I came to tell you how much I appreciate you. My business and profits have all but tripled, and it's only been about a week!" he placed a sloppy kiss on her neck and ran his hands over her bare thighs. She shivered in disgust.

Taking that shiver as one of pleasure, he cupped her cheek and shoved his tongue in her mouth. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried not to gag. He tasted like hate. His hand slowly rubbed upwards until he cupped her. He pulled away and smirked.

"Man, I missed you!" he chuckled and let go of her waist. "I guess I should stop myself now, or you won't get ready in time for your show!" he teased. Sam forced a smile on her face. He squeezed between her legs and let out a growl. She bit back a scream. He laughed once more and turned to leave. "Save a lap dance for me!" he tossed over his shoulder.

As soon as the door closed she collapsed onto her vanity seat, shivering and hugging herself. Fin quietly entered the room and dropped down to his knees before her. "Hey," he said quietly, placing a hand on her knee. She jumped and looked startled, as if she hadn't noticed he entered. "You alright? Did he..?"

She shook her head violently and rubbed her eyes, smearing her makeup. "No," she said shakily, "but he's starting to advance." She looked down and covered her chest with an arm. Fin scooped her dress off the floor and gently pulled her up on her feet.

"Put em up," he whispered. Sam half-heartedly smiled at the old joke. Fin used to say it to her when he helped her get dressed back in the day. She was often too high, sore, or just plain wore out to even get her clothes on.

She raised her arms and allowed him to slip the silky material over her head. She looped her arms through and hugged him tightly around the neck. "Thanks, Odey," she said much calmer than she was before. Fin hugged her back lovingly.

"Enough of this mushy stuff, you got a show to put on, Mrs. Dollie!" he pushed her back gently and pretended to sucker punch her jaw. She laughed quietly and reluctantly followed him outside.

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"Hey there, baby. Want some company?" a hollow cheeked girl, no older than sixteen asked John. He attempted to keep a grimace off his face at her appearance. Her hair was a bright, bottle blonde, it was stringy and clung tightly to her face and neck. Her body was malnourished, and an off grey-color. She was pretty ghastly.

"No thank you," he said tartly. He quickly turned his attention back to his coke. A cold hand ran down the side of his face.

"Awh, what's the matter, cutie? You shy?" she teased. John jerked away from her touch. The woman laughed and quickly threw a leg over his head and sat on his lap. John cleared his throat and pushed her shoulders back.

"Get off," he growled. The woman laughed again, scooting further up on his lap.

"Oh, come on now. Don't be so shy!" she leaned forward and attempted to plant a kiss on him. John quickly dodged and moved to push her off, but was surprised when the girl let out a scream.

"Leave this one alone, he's mine," Sam growled lowly. She had a fist full of the other girl's hair in her hand and was yanking it roughly back. The girl glowered at Sam.

"Yeah, who says? I've worked here longer than you have, I can have whoever I want!" she hissed. Sam tugged her head even further back and drug her off John's lap into the floor. Sam bent down, the girl's hair still clutched in her hand.

"Because I'm head bitch around here, and this is mine. Now fuck off," she said with a straight face. John raised his eyebrows at the alpha dog display. The younger girl scoffed and yanked her hair free.

"Alright, fine. I was just having a little fun. You don't have to be such a territorial bitch!" the girl seethed, picking herself up off the floor. Sam glared at the girl as she rolled her eyes and walked away. Sam turned her attention back to John, whom was eyeing her with an amused glance.

"What?" she said irritably.

"Jealous, are we?" he said, looking over his glasses. Sam pouted and crossed her arms.

"Well, you're mine!" she said childishly. He chuckled and pulled her to him by her waist.

"That's a nice dress you got on," he murmured as he trailed a finger down her side. Sam smiled and bent to kiss his cheek.

"Glad you like it, I picked it out with you in mind," she whispered huskily in his ear. His breathing hitched as she teasingly nipped his ear lobe. With one last coy smile, she left his side to take the stage. John shifted his legs uncomfortably. His pants were getting increasingly too tight as the night wore on.

He watched as she took the stage with fluent grace. The entire room fell quiet as she grabbed the microphone stand with a sure hand and smiled softly. "Hey there, I'm Dollie. I'll be your lead entertainment for the next few hours. Anyone got any suggestions?" she asked.

A halfway drunken man to his left yelled, "Why don't you stop teasing us and take if off early tonight, baby!?" his friends laughed and clapped him on the back like he had accomplished a great deed. He watched his partner smile a forced smile and let out a laugh.

"In a rush are we?" she teased. Howls and cat calls came in response. She chuckled once more and shook her head. "Sorry boys, but you're just gonna have to be patient!" she smiled at the boo's she received. Without sparing another glance at the yelling men around her, she motioned to the sound board keeper to her left.

It was like magic.

The minute the music began to play and Sam opened her mouth, the shouting stopped. The room had gone completely still, as if mesmerized by her. But who could blame them if they were? The second she began to sing, John noticed a change in her. She was completely at ease. She looked perfectly at home with a microphone in her hand. It was obvious she was born to perform.

The beat was slow, soothing. Her voice was low, husky, and to put it simply, seductive. It was the type of voice you'd hear in old western movies; the ones where saloon girls would captivate harsh cowboy hearts with just the sound of their voice.

She glanced at him from time to time, a warm smile present in her eyes. His breath caught with each new song she would start. She was magnificent up there. She had completely surrendered her body over to the music. Her hips ground on the microphone, and the way her lips caressed it could be compared to the way you would talk to a lover.

The way she'd whisper in his ear at night when they were all alone.

He immediately put a stop to that thought. It was bad enough he was getting a rise out of her just singing. Thinking about all those lazy mornings in his bed wouldn't help matters. As if she knew what he was thinking, she looked directly at him and licked her lips before handling the microphone in a provocative fashion. This woman was going to be the death of him.

All too soon, she stepped off the stage. She paused at his table and rubbed her hand over his shoulder. "Enjoying the show, Mr. Andrews?" she asked, her tone light and mocking. John smirked up at her, not trusting his voice. She chuckled and squeezed his shoulder before sauntering away.

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Up next was dancing, followed by the strip tease. He could handle that, right? He groaned and closed his eyes. Yeah. Sure. Keep telling yourself that old man.

He sighed. How was it that this woman could make him lose all control? Sure, she was beautiful, but John had never been a slave to his own body before now. Maybe he had become weak for love in his old age.

Dammit, there was that word again: love. Now was not the time to be thinking on that.

Hoots and whistles pulled him out of his thoughts as he redirected his attention. Sam had taken the stage once more, but in an entirely different outfit. The only thing covering her breasts was a strapless black, lace bra. Her toned, tan stomach was almost glowing underneath the spot light, her belly ring shined proudly. Her bottoms were tight, black booty shorts with lace trim. Mid-thigh red stiletto boots brought the whole look together, making her the very definition of tantalizing.

He had just begun to get over his mild shock of her wardrobe when an upbeat song started blaring around him. It was then that the room seemed to combust. Scantily clad women appeared throughout the room and began dancing everywhere; tables, chairs, the bar. None of them mattered though. The only person whom had his attention was the woman on stage.

Where the hell had she learned to dance like that? She moved her body more gracefully than a belly dancer! The way her hips moved with every beat left him in awe. He had no doubt in his mind that she could fit in at any club she went to and keep up with the teenagers and young adults there. Hell, she looked like a girl in her twenties to begin with!

His eyes widened as she hopped off stage and crawled onto his table. She grinned down at him, fully knowing she had him under her spell. Her hair whipped about her, a few strands sticking to the gloss on her lips. Her face was flushed and her skin had a sheer layer of sweat, making her glisten under the harsh lights. He wanted nothing more than to jerk her off that table and have her dance on top of him while he-

_STOP._

He reprimanded himself with a quick pinch to his thigh. Please, let this night be over soon. He groaned as she did a full split in front of him.

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The dancing seemed to go on forever, much to John's misfortune. He was beginning to seriously think that things were turning blue between his legs. He watched, totally fixated, as she walked up to the microphone once more, her chest rising and falling sharply with her pants. She took a few breaths before smiling at the crowd. The energy seemed to shift then, the men getting even more rowdy than they had before.

"You fella's enjoyin' the show?" she waited for the hollers to die down, "Good! Well it seems that it's my last dance of the night, so you know what that means!" the amount of yelling and whistling was almost deafening. A jazzy song started playing as she turned and gestured to a pole on stage that was now spot lighted. How had he missed that before? The men in the room suddenly crowded the stage, each getting as close as possible without actually climbing up on it. Sam shot him a weary glance, so quick, that he almost missed it. He gave her a reassuring smile, which seemed to boost her up a bit.

Timing her steps with the music, she strutted her way to the pole. She caressed a hand up and down it, almost lovingly. She shot a smile to the crowd as she slowly walked around it, her hand never leaving the cool metal. The song started to pick up and she faced the pole, looking at the audience over her shoulder. With a hooded gaze and her bottom lip between her teeth, she stared right at him. She slowly reached to her side and unzipped a well-hidden zipper on her shorts. John's hands gripped the table as she threw her discarded shorts off stage and was left in a black, silk thong.

He didn't exactly know how to feel; disgusted or seriously aroused? The fact she just undressed and looked at him the way she did, well that was enough to damn near drive him crazy. Then there was the fact these disgusting excuses of men were seeing what was supposed to be his. They were pawing and whistling at what was only supposed to be seen by him.

Though, he supposed that's why she kept her eyes glued to him. So, he put away his anger and jealousy, knowing she was looking toward him for support. She gave him a soft smile before suddenly climbing the pole in one fluid motion. She locked her legs, and in a blink of an eye, was spiraling upside down to the ground. She came to the bottom slowly, her back arched off the ground, legs still hugging the pole. She stood up, making even that move look seductive. She walked carefully to the front of the stage, her hands traveling teasingly down her body. It was then a drunken man crawled halfway on stage and grabbed her ankle.

Sam handled the situation easily though. She laughed, though forcibly, and bent over to pinch his cheek. His mouth came dangerously close to hers, making John tense up. At the last moment, Sam took the tip end of her boot and roughly kicked him back by the shoulder. His friends caught him and laughed, yelling such things as 'Spitfire!' and 'Tease!' up at her. She grinned back at them before turning her attention to John.

She hooked her thumbs on the sides of her bra, wiggling it teasingly. John felt his breathing pick up as she turned around and slowly moved her hands to the clasp. She unclasped it with ease and threw it to her left, causing a group of men to fight over the garment. She ran her hands through her hair and wiggled her bare back to the crowd behind her.

Slowly, she covered her chest with one arm and turned, her eyes immediately locking with John's. She managed to kick the men in front of her away long enough to hop down onto his table. She quickly did a split, eyes never leaving his. She then slid off the table, onto his waiting lap. The yells and cat calls fell deaf on John's ears as she removed her arm and pressed herself against his chest. She smiled up at him shyly then, her seductiveness waning a bit with the intimate contact. He wanted nothing more than to kiss her then.

She wrapped an arm around his neck, and rested her hand in his hair as she gently rolled her hips against him. His eyes shut and his hands immediately went to her hips. The fingers in his hair gripped tighter as she repeated the action, prompting him to look at her. He was met with blue eyes, glazed over with the same emotion he was feeling. Nothing seemed to matter then; not the loud music, the obnoxious shouts of drunken men. Time stopped as the only thing that mattered was the rhythmic roll of her hips and how wonderful she felt pressed up against him.

All too soon, the music ended, as did the gentle pressure her hips provided. The men around him clapped and yelled things like 'you lucky son of a bitch!' and cheered. He looked up at the woman on his lap, noting the blush and glazed over look on her face.

"How'd you like to come in the back for a private show, Mr. Andrews?" she said, voice lower than usual. John cleared his throat, the action immediately drawing her attention. She licked her lips before quickly meeting his gaze once more.

"Love to," he replied. She smiled and slowly covered her chest with her arm again. She stood up and offered her hand, which he quickly took. He was almost embarrassed by the noticeable bulge in his pants. Almost. He did just have a half-naked woman grinding on top of him in his defense.

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He was quickly led away from the crowd to a hallway. She stopped when she came to a door with 'Dollie' written on it. With a twist of the knob, she stepped inside. Fin was waiting inside, and immediately tossed her an oversized T-shirt. She turned her back to them and shrugged it on.

"Alright, let's get to chatting, cause we don't have long!" Fin stated. Sam nodded and crossed her arms, the motion catching John's eye. He was still attempting to shrug off the cloud of lust he had been thrown into, and from the look in her eye, so was Sam.

"Right. First off, I've got a list of victims Yates has either molested or raped," she waited as John pulled out a note pad from a concealed pocket in his jacket, "Ready?" At his curt nod she continued, "Tiffany Totili, Hanna Smith, Kariee Shipley, and Maddie Jones."

"Those are real names, not stage names, right?" John asked. Sam nodded.

"Yeah, but I couldn't get addresses," she stated.

A moment of silence collapsed before Fin asked, "How far has he taken things?" The men noticed her stiffen.

"He hasn't done anything. But he's getting closer to it," she said, her head bowed. John fisted his hands to his sides.

"So, what, we wait until he makes a move?" Fin asked. Sam shook her head. If they only knew he already had…

"No, you have to be able to prove it," she rubbed a hand over her face, looking older than usual.

"So…?" Fin trailed off. John gritted his teeth, knowing what was coming next.

"So we wait until he's in the middle of it," she said, raising her chin in defiance.

"Absolutely not," John seethed.

"You and I both know that the only way to get solid proof is wait for it and catch him in the act!" she shot back.

"Yeah, and what about when he starts beating the shit out of you?" John growled. Sam sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"It's the only way to get him on all charges," she said simply.

"No way, I'm talking to Cragen. This isn't-"

"Oh for the love of God!" she threw up her arms and stomped her foot, "It's not like I haven't been in this situation before, John! This used to be my everyday life. I can handle it. It's not like this is the first time I've ever been beaten or sexually assaulted," she said the last part with bitter venom in her voice. John's anger dissipated. They stood there, eyes locked and having a silent battle.

Fin cleared his throat. "Alright, I give him a week, two tops before he goes for the whole thing. Is there anything else he needs to know?"

"Just to make sure you never bring in a cell phone, even if it's a fake. If Yates gets a hold of you, he'll confiscated it. Fake I.D. and wallet only. Now that you've made an appearance, it should be safe for you to come throughout the week now," she said it void of emotion, her eyes glued to the wall behind the two men. Fin sighed.

"Alright, I'm going to go make sure it's alright for you to leave, I'll knock on the door when it's clear," he quickly slipped out the door, leaving the remaining two occupants in awkward silence. They met eyes once more, before both grinning sheepishly.

"Come 'mere," he held out his arm, and she immediately came to him. She buried her head in his chest and breathed in his scent. "I can't wait until this case is over with," he said quietly.

"Neither can I," she replied. She looked up and surprised him by pressing her lips roughly against his own. He pulled back slightly and fisted his hands in her hair, thumbs coming around to stroke her cheeks.

"When this is over, we're going on vacation," he muttered. She smiled and let out a breath that sounded like a laugh.

"Where you wanna go?" she asked, closing her eyes at his touch. She allowed herself to relax for the first time in days. She had missed his touch.

"How about Tennessee?" he grinned as her eyes flew open and her mouth fell slack.

"Really?" she squealed. John chuckled and tugged her hair playfully.

"Yes, really!" he shuffled backwards slightly as she let out another girly shout and threw her arms around his neck.

"Oh, you'll love it! The daffodils are just startin' to bloom, and the trees are blossomin'. Oh! And we can go horseback ridin', and holy shit! Fishin'!" her mouth was running a mile a minute, her words sounding pure country. He smiled then, loving the way her face was lit up with almost child-like glee. She snapped her mouth shut once she became aware of her babbling and smiled shyly up at him.

"We'll go as soon as this is all done, promise," he said. He tilted her chin and kissed her slowly, almost lazily. She sighed happily and pressed herself closer. The action caused a pleasurable friction across her semi-bare chest. She gasped and pulled away, biting on her lower lip. John smiled tenderly and kissed her nose.

A quiet knock sounded on the door, causing the partners to frown. Sam tightened her hold around his neck and shoved her face in his neck. "I don't want you to go," she admitted quietly. John's hands tightened on her waist.

"Be careful," he replied. He titled her chin and kissed her fiercely. When they parted, Sam suddenly ruffled his hair.

At his questioning gaze, she smirked and said, "I just gave you a private show, you should look a bit roughed up." She said it almost proudly, which made him smirk. He unbuttoned the top button of his dress shirt and loosened his tie. He watched in turn as she disarrayed her hair.

"Better?" he asked. She eyed him up and down, that familiar look leaking back into her eyes.

"Mmm, much," she said. She moved to wrap her arms around him again, but he quickly stopped her.

"If you do that, we're going to be in here for another hour," he glanced at her chest and quickly back up. She smirked and kissed him quickly.

"Point taken," she walked to the door and gave him one last longing look. "I've enjoyed our time, Mr. Andrews. Come back so we can do it again, real soon?" she purred as they stepped back out into the club. He threw an arm around her waist, surreptitiously pulling her T-shirt down to further cover her butt. She passed him a quick, gracious smile.

"Very soon," he agreed as they made their way to the door.

"Until next time, then?" she said as she turned to him.

"Yes," he agreed. He released her waist and kissed her on the corner of the mouth.

"Well, what do we have here?" a voice came from behind them. Sam jumped back quickly, her eyes widening in surprise.

"Oh, Mr. Yates! This is Markus Andrews," she motioned to John. John fought hard to keep a look of pure hatred off his face. The squat man took in their state of dress and lip stick smeared faces and took to glaring at Sam.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Andrews," Yates said in a clipped tone. He didn't look at him, nor did he extend his hand. "Dollie, wait in my office for me, please?" he said, rather than asked. Sam nodded her head quickly.

"Yes, sir!" she said. She turned and Yates slapped her on the ass, smirking at her yelp of surprise. John fisted his hands in his pockets. His teeth ached from the force of his clenched jaw.

"Well, goodnight, Mr. Andrews," Yates said smugly. He turned on his heel and walked haughtily in the direction Sam had gone. John had a bad feeling. His eyes rested on Fin across the room. Fin nodded with a bare shake of his head. John nodded back and left the bar, a sinking feeling in his gut.

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"You look like you had fun," Yates said evenly as he entered his office. Sam was sitting on one of the many couches, constantly trying to pull the T-shirt down further. Yates caught the motion and frowned.

"Yeah, he's a cool guy," she said wearily. Yates nodded, his expression darkening.

"A cool guy," he echoed. He stalked towards her, pausing a few feet away. "Get up," he ordered. Sam sat, frozen. "Now!" he said menacingly. Sam slowly got to her feet, a sense of dread numbing her. "Take it off," he growled. She stood solid, her arms pressed tight to her sides.

"Nathan ple-" he cut her off with a sharp slap across her cheek. She released a pained hiss and licked at the blood in the corner of her mouth.

"I won't ask you again," he said barely above a whisper. She hesitated a moment more before jerking off the T-shirt in a quick movement. She stared at the wall behind him as his eyes took in her almost bare form. He grunted and motioned with his finger, "Come." She didn't fight it. She immediately came to him.

He roughly grabbed her by the shoulders and looked her in the eyes. "He may have fucked you first, but you're my property!" he snarled. He slapped her again, causing more blood to drip from her lip down her chin. "Do I make myself clear, Miss Dollie?"

"Crystal," she was grateful her voice sounded strong and didn't portray the fear she felt. He pushed her back then and turned towards his desk. "Now, get out. And don't let me catch you with him again," he growled. Sam didn't reply or bother to grab her shirt from the floor. She exited the room, her arms crossed over her bare chest.

Fin immediately wrapped his jacket around her, his face full of dread. Sam shook her head and looked down at the ground. She was surprised she got off so easily. She was sure the next time wouldn't go over as well.

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**Hey there guys! Once again, sorry for such lengthy time between updates! Life has gotten pretty crazy. Yeah, yeah, excuses, right? Anyway, thanks to all my new subscribers and favorites on this story! I hope you are enjoying it! Please don't forget to comment! (:**


	14. On the Mend

**ON THE MEND**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any characters other than Sam. Any others belong to Dick Wolf!**

**WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS RAPE. You have been warned.**

"I'm taking you out of here. You're done!" John shouted angrily at his partner. She attempted to quiet him and pointed at the door. It was his sixth visit to the club, and needless to say, Yates was a little more than upset with her. She was currently sporting a cracked rib underneath her low cut shirt, a black eye that even makeup couldn't hide, and from the limp in her walk, it looked like her leg had something pulled.

"John, calm down! It's fine!" she threw her arms up in the air. John growled and stepped closer.

"Fine? Fine! Have you looked in the mirror?" He pointed to her eye. Sam sighed and rubbed her aching eye.

"John, it's really fine. I've had worse. We're too close to back out now. He's close to doing it. In fact, I think he'll do it tonight!" she immediately wished she could take back the words.

"Close? How close. What has he done?" John said seriously. Sam bit her lip and looked away.

"He's just escalating is all. Nothing major," she murmured. John gently grabbed her chin and made her face him.

"What has he done?" he said more gently, though still serious. Sam frowned and tore her chin from his grasp. She turned around and rubbed her hands over her arms.

"Look, it's almost over with. I'm fairly sure it'll happen as soon as you leave," she said sternly. John walked the three steps to her and gently turned her around. She sighed and hesitantly met his eyes.

"I'll tell you everything when it's all over. I can't go into it right now and keep a level head," she admitted. Seemingly satisfied with that answer, he nodded and kissed her forehead before pulling her into a large embrace. She relaxed instantly as she buried her face in his neck.

All too soon, John pulled away slightly and kissed her gently. "All right, time for me to go. Be careful," he said as he placed a hand on her cheek. She leaned into the touch and kissed his thumb.

"I will. I've got Odey on the other side of the door. All I have to do is yell for him," she said, not to just reassure him, but to reassure herself as well. He nodded and ran his thumb once more over her lips before tearing himself away.

The moment the door was open, Sam resumed her 'Dollie' posture, and John played the part of a satisfied, egotistical man. They met Fin at the door. Sam gave her partner a convincing kiss and winked and turned to walk back to the bar. It was then she locked eyes with her boss, his gaze leaving her blood cold. The hard fury in his eyes was more intense then she had ever seen. She swallowed thickly and willed herself not to glance over her shoulder at her friends. She slowly made her way to him, only to have him grip her arm roughly. She hissed in pain and was sure it was going to leave a lovely bruise later on.

John watched with his heart in his throat as Yates all but dragged her in the direction of his office. He gave Fin an alarmed look. The look was foreign on the aged detective who wasn't likely to show such distress. Fin gave him a nod and clapped a quick hand to his shoulder. "I'll signal to you outside when she comes out," he whispered as he passed him. John watched as he ran in the direction of the office. He sighed and slowly exited the building, a horrible feeling had settled in his stomach. He didn't like this.

He got into his rented car and drove around the block twice before parking down the block, the entrance still in sight. If Sam was right about what was to happen tonight, he was going to be there.

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"I've had enough of this!" Yates growled as he gave a sharp slap to Sam's face. She winced as her already busted lip started to bleed again. She braced a hand behind her on his desk to keep from hitting the floor. "I have been nothing but kind to you. I pay you more than any other slut here, and all I ask is your loyalty!" he slapped her again; the sound resonated off the walls.

"B-but sir, why? The other girls can give private shows, why can't I?' she said weakly. He suddenly grasped her neck in his hands and squeezed slightly. He brought his face close to hers, his expression turned from fury to something more sinister. She shivered involuntarily as he skirted his lips down her cheek.

"Because, you're mine," he whispered in his ear. He bit down on her ear lobe, making her yelp in pain. The hands around his neck squeezed tighter and he growled, "Shut up. Make another sound and I'll kill you!" She gripped his hands and struggled to keep her breathing regular. His mouth traced her shoulder. She bit her tongue in order to keep quiet when he bit down hard on her collar bone. She felt the slow trickle of blood make its way down her shoulder and seep through her thin shirt.

His left hand left her neck to caress her thigh. Her stomach felt like it was being ripped inside out and a bitter taste filled her mouth as she fought down bile. "I've been lenient with you, Dollie. I've kept my distance. But your cute little hand jobs can only go so far," he panted in her ear. He bit roughly down on her neck, leaving the indent of his teeth from the force. Blood filled her mouth as she bit the insides of her cheeks to keep from crying out.

His hand on her neck left and shoved itself up her shirt, pulling harshly at her breast. She cried out in pain. He growled and punched her in the side of her head. She fell backwards and felt an immediate sharp pain in her temple. It took her a moment to realize she hit her head on the corner of Yate's desk. She felt the blood run down her face and tried to fight through the haziness as Yates yanked her off the floor and laid her back on the desk.

"I said, be quiet," he whispered teasingly in her ear. Her vision blurred and she barely registered the fingers slipping under the band of her panties.

"N-no," she slurred. This wasn't happening. Not again. She felt a finger slip inside her and she gathered all her strength to twist her body in an attempt to throw him off. He pushed her back down easily and pushed her underwear down her legs. She felt him undoing his belt and felt panic rise through her. She tried to get her voice to work, but her vision was blurring and the world was slowly turning black. She scratched at his face weakly, but he grabbed her wrists and pinned them over her head onto the desk. She heard him laugh, a purely evil sound. He panted in her ear and in one swift movement, thrust inside of her. Her scream was the last thing she heard before her world fell black.

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John fidgeted in his expensive rental car's front seat. It had been twenty minutes since he left, and Fin had not come outside to signal him all was well. Which meant two things: either they were working on the arrest already, or Sam was still inside that office. And since he hadn't heard anything on his police scanner, he was betting on the latter of the two. He couldn't take the waiting anymore.

He slowly exited the car and made his way back to the club. The minute he walked in, he knew something wasn't right. He could see Fin still standing in front of the office door. Being as surreptitious as he could, he made his way over to the other detective.

"Fin, she still in there?" he whispered once he was close. Fin jumped and turned to the elder detective with a scowl on his face.

"What the hell are you doing? You're jeopardizing everything! Get out of here, John," he hissed. John frowned and shook his head.

"It doesn't feel right. It's been too long!" John argued. Fin sighed and a bit of his anger dissipated.

"You're right. She hasn't called for help though, so we need to wait. If we go in too soon, it could ruin everything," Fin reasoned.

John opened his mouth to talk, but was stopped by a blood curdling scream. Fin immediately busted down the door. The sight before them made them stop in their tracks for just a few seconds, though it felt like hours. Yates wasn't just on top of Sam, he was _in_ her. She was a bloody mess, and looked to be passed out.

Fin grabbed the man by his shirt collar just as Yates zipped up his pants. He shoved him into a wall and placed a hand around his neck. "You son of a bitch!" he growled. Yates smirked.

"Fin!" John called. The urgency in his voice made Fin's stomach twist. Fin shoved Yate's down on the couch and griped his shoulder hard until the squat man groaned in pain.

"If you move, I'll shoot you," he said menacingly. Yates nodded; a twinge of fear was present in his eyes at the threat. Satisfied with the fearful expression, Fin turned his attention to his unconscious friend.

"Call a bus!" John said as he removed hair from her temple to get a better look. She was bleeding profusely. He took one look at the bite marks on her collar bone and felt his insides twist in cold fury. John released an angry howl, and before Fin could blink, John was on top of Yates. The squat man screamed as John pounded his fists into his face. Nothing mattered in that moment except the feeling of satisfaction he got from his aching knuckles and the crunching under his hands.

"John, get off him!" Fin yelled. He drug John off, which was no easy task, and threw him back to the floor. "Are you crazy! You probably just got this son of a bitch a free walk!" he yelled. He spared a glance at the whimpering man on the couch. Yep, that nose was officially broken. It looked like a few teeth had been knocked out as well. Fin huffed in annoyance and took out his cell phone and dialed 9-1-1.

"This is Detective Tutuola. I'm at the Roulette Burlesque Club on 95th. I have an officer down and a suspect in need of medical attention," he said briskly. He nodded at the voice on the other end and hung up. He tossed a mild glance at the groaning man on the couch. His gaze lowered to the floor. John was holding Sam's head in his lap, attempting to staunch the blood flow from her temple. The expression on his face was one of pure anguish. Fin's eyes softened and his anger lessened as he took in the sight. It seemed his earlier prediction had come true; John Munch hadn't just fallen for his partner. He had fallen _in love_ with her.

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John snorted against the cleaner and antiseptic aroma that clung to the hospital like perfume. He hated hospitals. He sighed and rubbed a bandaged hand over his face. He winced at the motion and glared at his hands. He had cracked three knuckles on his left hand, and four on his right. Though, it was worth it.

He turned his attention to the sleeping woman on the hospital bed in front of him. It had been almost eight hours since their arrival and she still hadn't woke up. She had a fractured skull, two broken ribs, and a pulled leg ligament. Thankfully, Yates was the size of a peanut and had only thrust about twice before Fin pulled him off of her. There wasn't any vaginal tearing, thank God.

He glanced at the thin line of stitching on her temple. It had been a close call tonight. The paramedics said if they had gotten there any later she would have bled out. He couldn't even think about it without being filled with fury. Yates was lucky he hadn't killed him. If Fin wouldn't have been there, he was sure he would have kept punching until Yates stopped moving. It was almost scary that he was willing to kill for this woman.

He heard a faint groan in front of him and grabbed her pale hand from the bed. Her eyes slowly fluttered softly and she groaned again from the harsh lights. She winced in pain and slowly cocked her head to the side.

"John?" she said weakly. Her voice was rough, like it hadn't been used in days.

"Hey there, hillbilly," he said softly. His heart jumped to his throat at her small little smile. The smile was short lived as she took her free hand and rubbed her temple. She gasped at the pain and slowly uncovered herself to inspect her body for further injury.

John cleared his throat before speaking softly, "You've got a couple of broken ribs. You tore your left upper leg ligament, but that should heal in less than a week. You fractured your skull and busted your head open, thus the stitches." He couldn't handle telling her of the deep bite marks on her neck.

She slowly digested the information and nodded her head. She finally looked up and noticed the bandages on his hands. Her eyes widened and she immediately grabbed his hands to look at them. "What happened? How bad are you hurt?" she said quickly. John smiled softly. She was the one in the hospital bed, and she was worrying about _him_.

"It's nothing," he said, suddenly ashamed. Sam squeezed his hands with hers gently and shook her head.

"What happened?" she repeated. He looked away.

"I broke some knuckles beating Yate's face in," he admitted. Her hands suddenly gripped his tighter, causing pain to shoot across his broken bones.

"You did what?" her voice was quiet with disbelief. He said nothing and refused to meet her eyes.

"You mean that I could have done that all for nothing! All because you got mad! How could you!" she shouted. She released his hands and grabbed her head, hissing at the painful tug to her temple.

"No, I've already talked to Cragen and the ADA. It went into my jacket, but ultimately it won't affect the case. And some of the other girls at the club heard about what happened. They came forward and rolled on Yates, he's going away for life," he said. She released a breath and slowly let go of her hair. Her hands fell into a heap on her lap.

"Why did you do that?" she asked, lip trembling. It felt like someone was ripping apart his insides.

"Because," he ran a gentle finger down her face, "I'm selfish."

She turned to him sharply, her gaze a mixture of confusion and surprise. "What?" she asked. John smiled slightly and shook his head.

"I was at the club when it happened," he said quietly. Sam gasped and threw a hand over her mouth.

"You mean, you-you saw," she trailed off, unable to finish. John grabbed her hands in his own and waited for her to look up.

"I lost it. Seeing him on top of you. Seeing those bite marks on your neck," he watched as she rubbed the bandaged marks self-consciously, "And there was so much blood. I thought- I thought you weren't going to make it," he whispered. The tiny hands encased in his suddenly sprung free and grasped either side of his face. He looked up and was shocked to see a small smile and tears running down her cheeks. He returned the smile with a shy one of his own and buried his hands in the back of her hair, carefully placing her forehead against his own. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes briefly.

"I love you."

It was faint, so faint, that Sam almost didn't believe she had heard it. She pulled back and blinked a couple of times.

"You what?" she asked in a tiny voice. John brushed his thumb over her lip.

"I love you," he said it with confidence this time. If the moment wasn't so serious and intimate, he may have laughed at her slacked jaw and wide eyes.

"Why?" she asked incredulously.

"Why?" he echoed. He thought for a moment before saying, "Because, you're my partner. I trust you. I always want you next to me. I mean, I can't even get a full night's sleep because I keep reaching for you on the other side of the bed," he admitted. Sam shook her head and looked away.

"Hey?" he said gently. He turned her chin towards him. "What's wrong?"

She chewed on her already busted lip and looked down. "How can you love me, when you know what I used to do?" she whispered. Her cheeks were tinged pink from shame.

"Because," he brought her attention back to him once more, "You were forced into that life. You were raped. You're not a whore, Sam," he said gently. She was quiet then for a while.

"But how can you look at me, and not see what happened to me?" she asked. John opened his mouth to speak, but shut it. That was true. He was sure there'd be times when he'd look at her and remember. Especially, since her injuries were likely to leave scars.

"Because when I look at you, I'll see you, not what happened. We'll erase the old memories by making our own," he said softly.

"So, you really do love me?" she asked. Her voice was meek, like that of a broken child. Seeing her insecurities first hand was heart wrenching. Did she really believe it was so hard for someone to love her?

"Yes," he said gently. He ran a hand through her hair and gently traced her cheek with the other.

"I love you too," she whispered. She leant forward, ignored the intense pain from her ribs, and kissed him lovingly on the lips. John sighed as they parted and helped her back into a more comfortable position.

"When can we go home?" she asked as her eyes started to droop. The morphine was starting to take its hold once more. John smiled and grabbed her hand. He was secretly delighted that she called his apartment home.

"Hopefully tomorrow. They said your rape kit came back clean of STD's," he heard her sigh of relief at the mention of being STD free. He knew she had to be wondering about it. It was better to have just said it bluntly and get it over with. "They just want to keep you over night because of your head injury."

She seemed to accept that and sighed. He watched amused as her eyes fluttered open and closed. She was desperately trying to fight off sleep, but sleep was winning. "I love you, John," she mumbled sleepily.

He couldn't wipe the grin off his face as he said, "I love you too," and watched as she drifted off to sleep.

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"Hey, don't overdo it," John said as he watched his partner grab her ribs in pain. It had been a little over two weeks since she was sent home from the hospital. Her leg muscle was back to normal. The stitches on her temple had fallen out. There was a thin pink line where they once were, but it would fade into a barely noticeable scar in time. The bite marks had faded, thankfully not leaving any scars. She looked back to normal for the most part, with the exception of some still greenish bruises on her ribs.

The woman was stubborn. No matter how much John had begged her to take another week off, she wouldn't have any of it. Samantha Cragen was not one for bed rest. She insisted on returning to work today, even though that meant they were going to have Tucker from IAB up their ass the minute they walked through the door. Truth be told, he was dreading the interrogation. Not only because he was going to have his ass handed to him for rearranging Yate's face, but because he knew they were going to be drilled about their relationship.

"Help?" she lifted up her arms and allowed him to pull her night shirt over her head. He tried not to stare at her chest as he turned swiftly around. She was tantalizing, even in just a simple black cotton bra and matching boy shorts.

She sat carefully on the edge of the bed and watched in amusement as he went to the closet and began looking for a button up shirt. While John had fashion sense in men's style, he always had a tough time trying to put together a good outfit for her. It was cute the way he would stand there and go through her clothes, muttering to himself.

She inspected his bare back and smiled. While he was thin, he had a set of wiry muscles beneath the skin. She smiled wider at the small birthmark on his right shoulder. It was almost shaped like a heart and was just a shade darker than his actual skin tone.

He made an approving noise and turned around with a dark blue button up shirt and knee length pencil skirt in his grasp. He held them up with a proud smile. "How about this?"

She giggled at him and nodded her head. "You're getting better at this!" she said as she motioned him forward with her hand.

"I guess I can add being able to create amazing outfits to my list of perks!" he said entirely too serious. She chuckled as he came closer. She took the garments from his hands and laid them on the bed beside her. At his curious look, she merely took his hands and lay back down carefully, dragging him down with her. She encircled his neck with her arms and kissed him lovingly on the lips. John smiled into the kiss and pulled away to nuzzle her cheek.

"I love you," he whispered against her skin. He heard her sigh contently and he smiled wider. He slowly raised his head and dragged his lips down her ear. A shiver ran up her spine and her hands slipped down from his neck to caress over his back. His lips trailed down her neck as he left small kisses here and there. He stopped at the first bite mark high on her neck. She gasped as he traced the faded marks with his tongue. He moved to the one on her collar bone and repeated the action. She writhed underneath him in a mixture of pleasure and uncertainty. She felt the familiar wave of insecurity wash over her.

"John?" she said hesitantly. She suddenly felt ashamed of her body and pushed him back to cover herself. How was he not disgusted with her? Her body was peppered with scars, the ones Yates had given her were just the newest to the collection.

"Don't hide from me," he said gently. He pried her arms loose and spread them to either side and threaded his fingers with hers. She swallowed thickly and looked him in the eye. "You don't need to hide from me," he said softly.

She seemed to relax some and she nodded her head slightly. John Smiled reassuringly and moved to kiss her forehead gently. He took a moment to stare at the thin pink line. It was a reminder of just how close he came to losing his partner.

He kissed his way down her cheek and back down to her neck. He once again traced the faint marks with his tongue and smiled slightly at her sigh. He continued down and stopped at a little freckle on the top of her breast. He pressed a closed mouth kiss to it. Sam gasped and arched her back. She took her hands away from John's and buried her fingers in his hair, trying to pull him closer.

He hummed happily as he moved lower to her stomach. She giggled and squirmed underneath him as he kissed and licked at her stomach. He dipped his tongue into her belly button and laughed as she squealed and smacked him lightly on the shoulder.

"I think you're ticklish!" he said, moving back to her lips.

"Whatever gave you that idea?" she said sarcastically against his lips. He nipped at her bottom lip, being mindful it was still tender from being split open previously. "Mmm, John."

"Hmm?" he hummed in reply. He moved to nibble on her ear.

"We need to get dressed or we're going to be late for work," she said weakly. He buried his face in her neck and groaned.

"Can't you just take another day off?" he whined. Sam laughed and ran her fingers through his hair.

"I've been cooped up here for two weeks! I'm ready to go back to work!" she said sternly. He sighed and slowly stood back up. He extended a hand and carefully helped her back up.

"Alright, fine. But will you at least take an easy today?" he begged. He looped an arm around her waist.

"I know, I know. No heavy lifting or dealing with purps. Desk duty only!" she rolled her eyes. John and her father both had made that _very_ clear _many _times.

"That's not what I'm talking about," he muttered. She raised an eyebrow in question. "I mean don't try and beat the shit out of Tucker when he pisses you off," he said dejectedly. Sam smiled and kissed his nose.

"I'll leave that to you, seeing as how you're the one with the broke knuckles!"

He glared at her with such intensity, that if looks could kill, she'd be ten feet under.

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"What the hell are you doing back!" Elliot said as he caught sight of a familiar head of curls. Sam smiled and fell into his embrace.

"You know me, I can't stay away for too long!" she said happily, "Where's Livvy?"

"Right here!" came a reply from behind. Sam turned on her heel and let out a delighted sound as she hugged her best friend. "Wow, you look a lot better!" Liv said as she looked her up and down. Her eyes halted momentarily on the scar on her temple. Sam caught her looking and looked to the ground. She felt a hand slip into hers and immediately knew it was John's. She looked up at him and gave him a small smile.

"Where's Odey and Daddy?" she asked. Elliot pointed a thumb over his shoulder towards the captain's office.

"Thank ya," she said. She gave John's hand one last squeeze and left the detectives watching after her.

"How is she doing?" Liv asked as her friend disappeared into the office. John sighed and ran a hand down is face.

"She's alright. She's has woke up almost every night with more nightmares than usual. She's having a hard time adjusting to being able to relax," he said.

"Are you sure she's ready to come back? 'Cause the minute IAB catches wind that she's here, Tucker will be up both of your asses," said Elliot.

"I tried to get her to wait a while, but you know how stubborn that woman is," they all shared a rue smile as he continued, "She swears she's ready for it." They all stood in silence then.

A million thoughts ran through John's head. There was a very likely possibility that they would be split up as partners. There was even a possibility that one of them would have to transfer out of the unit. He mentally berated himself. If he wouldn't have lost his damned temper because of Yates, none of this would be happening and they would have passed the inspection with flying colors. Now? He wasn't so sure.

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"Daddy?" Sam said as she carefully pushed open the Captain's door.

"Freckles? Why are you here, you should be resting!" Donald said as he hopped out of his chair. He walked around his desk and gently threw his arms around her.

"Naw, you know me. I can't stay in bed for too long. I get restless," she said as Don released her. She turned her attention to Fin sitting behind her. He immediately got up and hugged her.

"How ya doing, Dolls?" he asked quietly. She smiled shyly as he let go of her.

"I'm doing alright," she said as she took a seat in front of the desk. The men followed soon after.

"John taking good care of you?" Don asked as he plopped heavily back into his chair. Sam blushed darker.

"Yes, daddy," she said quietly.

"Good, because if he doesn't," he finished the sentence by flicking his switchblade open menacingly. Sam laughed and held her sides, her ribs shooting a sharp twinge up her body.

"No daddy, he's taking real good care of me," she said with a smile. Don and Fin smiled briefly at each other as she continued to blush, smile, and stare at her feet. Oh yeah, his little girl had it bad for this one.

"Good. Have you called IAB?" Don asked. He hated to break the good mood, but he really did have to get down to business.

"No. I figure he'll be here soon enough," she said in a bored tone.

"True, but it'll probably be for both of your advantages if you just went ahead and called him," Fin said. Sam mulled that over for a few seconds.

"That's true," she said skeptically. She sighed and carefully stood up and said, "Alright. I'll go have John call them."

She left the office grumbling under her breath. Maybe John was right. She should have waited another week before coming back. Her ribs were starting to ache and she was in no mood to listen to Tucker.

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"You sure you're up to this?" John asked for what had to be the thousandth time.

"Yeah," she said tiredly. John stood behind her as she poured herself a cup of coffee. He messaged her shoulders lightly, smiling at her appreciative groan. She sat her coffee on the desk in front of her and turned around in his arms. His hands slid from her shoulders to clutch her hands.

"Feeling okay?" he asked. Sam yawned and nodded tiredly.

"Yeah," she said as she closed her eyes. John frowned.

"Wouldn't lie to me, would you?" he pushed. Sam sighed and opened her eyes. They seemed a bit glazed over.

"My ribs are hurting and I could really use a nap," she admitted quietly. John nodded and rubbed his thumbs over the back of her hands.

"I can tell. How about you go home after your evaluation," he rushed on as she opened her mouth to protest, "I'll come straight home after mine, and tell you the verdict, alright?"

"No way!" she protested. John huffed. Why was this woman so damned stubborn.

"Come on, you can take a nap in our nice, comfy bed instead of pacing around waiting for me to get done. You need to lay down for a little while. If you over do it, you'll make those ribs worse," he reasoned. Her lip stuck out in a pout and he knew he had started to get through to her.

"I guess so," she said sadly. John couldn't help but smile. She really was too cute for her own good sometimes.

"That's my girl," he said proudly. She smiled tiredly at him and moved to kiss him.

"Well, it looks like you're feeling better, Ms. Cragen," a snide remark came from behind them. Sam didn't even need to turn to know who the owner was. Just the sound of Tucker's voice made her blood pressure rise.

She turned slowly around with a fake smile set into place. "A little bit, yes. Good morning, Mr. Tucker."

"Good morning. I won't waste any of our time explaining why I'm here, because well, we know why I'm here. Who's first?" Tucker wasn't one for pleasantries, and at that point, neither was John or Sam.

"Me," Sam said. Tucker nodded.

"Are you sure you feel up to it?" Tucker asked. Sam nodded, mildly surprised that he even asked.

"Yes, but I'd like to go home after the procedure, if that's alright," she said, suddenly feeling even more tired.

"Of course. Let's go ahead and get started, shall we?" he motioned back towards where the interrogation rooms were. Without another word, he walked briskly past the couple. Sam glanced at her partner and gave him a tiny smile before fallowing her superior.

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"First off, I'd like to tell you how much I respect you for going through with that case," Tucker started off. Sam kept fidgeting in her seat. Not only was she uncomfortable with the man in front of her, but the metal chair she was sitting in was doing horrendous things to her back and already aching ribs.

"Thank you," she said, though nothing in her voice portrayed gratitude. "I was just doing my duty."

"Still, I'm sure that it wasn't an easy thing to do, given your past," he replied. He watched as she visibly stiffened. When she said nothing he continued, "Tell me when yours and John's relationship became personal." Sam breathed out in relief. She was scared he was going to bring up her past.

"A little over six weeks ago," she answered easily.

"And has it become a sexual relationship as well?" he asked. She blinked twice at that question, as if she couldn't digest it.

"I don't see how any of that is your business, but no. It hasn't." she said through gritted teeth.

"Are you sure about that? You stayed at his house almost every night for two weeks before this last case, and every night after that. Not to mention given the nature of your undercover work, it's natural if things got a little heated after one of your performances," he said calmly. Sam felt her blood begin to boil.

"I still don't see how any of that is your damned business! No, we haven't slept together. And I resent the fact you would accuse us of jeopardizing a case because of raging hormones. We're not children, sir. We can actually control the urge to bang each other senseless!" her accent had come out full force, and she crossed her arms stubbornly. If Tucker was surprised by her brash choice of wording, he didn't show it. In fact, he seemed amused.

"That's reassuring to know, detective," he ignored her unlady-like snort. "Tell me what happened that night." He again saw her stiffen.

"There isn't much to tell. Yates knocked me incoherent, Fin and John came in and I passed out," she said.

"That's it? You don't remember John attacking Yates?" he pushed. Sam growled.

"What the hell did I just say? I said I passed out. The next thing I remember was waking up in the hospital!" Dear God, she could really use a cigarette right about now. In fact, if her ribs weren't cracked, she would have half a mind to hope across the table and beat him senseless.

"Alright. Do you condone what Munch did?" he asked.

"No, of course not, and he knows it too," she said. Tucker raised his eyebrows.

"Oh? How's that?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"I told him. I understand why he did it, but it's not right for him to go throwing punches willy-nilly," she explained. Tucker nodded in approval. He had come in this morning, full intent on splitting these two up, but now he was starting to rethink things. He had expected the detective to be a stricken victim (which she had every right to be) that clung to her partner. However, it turns out the woman was just as sassy as ever, and wasn't going to make her partner out to be a hero. Interesting.

"If you were to stay partners with Munch, do you think you can put your personal relationship aside and keep a professional setting when you're on duty?" he asked.

"Of course," she replied instantly.

"How can you be sure?" he questioned. Sam sighed in annoyance. Her ribs were really starting to hurt from this chair. She winced as she took a deep breath.

"Because John and I signed up for this job to help the victims, not find love. Our personal relationship comes second when we're on the job," she said carefully.

"How do you know John won't attack another suspect again? I can't take the chance of him hitting every suspect that gets rough with you," he challenged.

"First off, Yates wasn't rough with me, he was _raping_ me. Second of all, John knows I would kill him," she said the last part with a smirk.

"But how can you be sure?"

"The only answer I can give you is that I trust him not to do something like that again. I mean, he's a decorated cop, and before this, he didn't have a single mark in his jacket, of all his years as a detective. I can promise you it won't happen again," she said seriously. She moved slightly and gasped at the pain. She cursed under her breath and closed her eyes.

"I'll take your word for it. This interview is over, detective. You need to get some rest before you come back to work, I can tell you still aren't back one hundred percent," Tucker said as he stood up. He watched her pathetic attempts to get up from her chair. After the third failed attempt he walked to her side and offered his hand. She stared at it a moment before accepting it.

"Thanks," she said with a small smile. He nodded back and held the door open for her. She almost waddled out of the room.

John noticed his partner coming out and immediately knew she wasn't feeling to well. "Hey there," he said quietly as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

"Hey yourself," her voice was shaky.

"You think you'd be ok to get home by yourself?" he asked, tossing a glance over his shoulder to Tucker.

"Yeah, I'll call a cab," she leaned against him, breathing heavily. John frowned.

"You sure you'll be ok?" he asked again. She nodded and smiled up at him.

"Yeah, hurry home, okay?"

"As soon as possible. Want me to bring you anything?" She gave him a shy smile and giggled into his chest. He groaned and shook his head. "Let me guess, chocolate?"

She smiled up at him and nodded. "Pretty please?"

"Of course, I'll see you soon, ok?"

"Okay, Love you."

"I love you too," he kissed her gently and watched as she slowly walked back towards the elevators.

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"Alright, Detective, we'll make this quick. I'm sure you want to get home and check up on your partner." Tucker said. John said nothing as he took a seat behind the interrogation desk.

"When did your relationship become personal?" Tucker asked, sensing that John wasn't up for small talk.

"A little over six weeks ago," John answered blandly.

"Has the relationship gotten sexual?" Tucker asked.

"No," John replied, again without any real emotion.

"You're telling me she's spent the night at your place numerous times and nothing has ever happened?" Tucker said with raised eyebrows.

"That's right," John said through gritted teeth. His uncaring demeanor was slipping a little. Tucker sighed and leaned forward.

"Look, John, she's a very beautiful woman. It would be understandable things got a little heated undercover-" John uncrossed his arms and leaned forward.

"I have more respect for her than to take her against the wall of some grimy strip joint," John said angrily.

Tucker didn't as much as blink at his sharp tone as he replied, "Alright, then say you were in an upscale place instead of a grimy strip bar?"

"Are you insinuating that we can't do our jobs for fear we would have sex in whatever building we happen to come into contact with?" John said snidely.

"Not at all. It's just your mind frame must have gotten a little weak during some moments," Tucker said calmly. John took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes.

"No, _sir_. My mind frame was perfectly intact," he hissed.

"Oh? What about when you attacked Yates?" Tucker asked. John groaned and put his head in his hands.

"What about it?" he said wearily.

"It doesn't seem like your mind frame was too intact then," he said.

John was quiet for a few minutes before saying, "No, it wasn't. But then again, my partner was being _raped_," he said evenly.

"What happens when a perp gets too hands on? I can't have you beating up every one and any one that gets a little out of the way with your partner," Tucker said sternly.

"I understand that, but-"

"No, Detective, I don't think you do understand. You almost blew countless hours of undercover work all because you couldn't control your temper. You're lucky that the DA was able to use Sam's testimony and evidence. Not to mention there is a law suit now pending not only against you, but this entire unit as well. You better thank your stars that you didn't have a single mark in your jacket before this incident, or you'd already be sacked!" Tucker said critically.

"You're right," John said softly. "I shouldn't have lost my temper. But this wasn't groping we were talking about. It was rape. I'm not making excuses for what I did, but I can tell you it won't happen again," John said.

"How can I be sure of that?" Tucker questioned.

"Because Sam can handle herself. Hell, if a suspect was to grope her, I wouldn't even get the chance to do anything because she'd already have him on the ground. Besides, she all but threatened my life if I ever did it again," he smirked.

"So, you can say with absolute certainty that both of you can perform in a professional matter at work?" Tucker asked.

"Absolutely," John said immediately. Tucker nodded.

"Alright. We're done here. I'm going to talk with your Captain. I'll try to make it quick so you can get back to your partner. She didn't look too well when she left," Tucker said casually. John was mildly surprised Tucker was being so civil. Usually he was a grade A asshole. John followed Tucker out into the squad room and sat down heavily in his chair. He watched with nervous anticipation as Tucker entered the Captain's office.

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"How'd it go?" Don asked as Tucker entered his office. Without knocking he might add.

"Well," Tucker said while taking a seat, "I'm not sure."

"What do you mean?" Don asked.

"I came here with the full intentions of splitting these two up, maybe even transferring one out of the unit," Tucker began.

"But?" Cragen pushed. He had to fight the urge to slap the man as Tucker propped his feet up on the his desk.

"I'm not so sure now. I came here thinking your daughter would be love-struck with her rapist's attacker, but it's quite the opposite. She's pissed about it because it put the case in jeopardy. Even though Yates beat her, molested her, and raped her, she still was only worried about the case. Which makes me think that if nothing else, one of them is level headed," Tucker said thoughtfully. Cragen nodded in agreement.

"Despite what it looks like, John is just as level-headed if not more. Before that day, I had never so much as heard him slap a suspect. In fact, John has on more than one occasion talked Sam down when she's gotten too rough. They're good detectives, Tucker," said Don. Tucker mulled over his words.

"I suppose so. Alright, I'll give them one more chance. But if John so much as coughs on another suspect or perp, it's done," Tucker said seriously. Don raised his eyebrows. He really wasn't expecting Tucker to be so generous.

"Well, I guess all those rumors about you aren't true," Don said with a smile as he stood up. Tucker extended his hand and Don took it.

"And what those be?" Tucker said as they shook hands.

"That you're a heartless son of a bitch," Don said with a smirk.

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As much as John tried, he couldn't stop the humongous grin that was spread across his face. The fact that Tucker had agreed to let them stay partners had shocked the hell out of him. Though, he wasn't complaining. He went into work that morning thinking it would be the last day he'd get to see Sam in front of him at her desk as his partner.

He entered what had now become _their_ apartment with a sunflower and chocolate bar in hand. The lights were off and he saw a faint glow from the bedroom. He entered the room and frowned. His partner was curled around his pillow. Black mascara stains on the pillow case told him she had been crying earlier. The T-shirt she was wearing had risen up over her ribs. She seemed to be a little bit swollen underneath her bruised skin.

He carefully sat on the edge of the bed and stroked her cheek until her eyes slowly drifted open. She whined quietly and rubbed at her side. "Your side is swollen, I'm going to get some ice, ok?" he whispered. Sam nodded weakly.

John was back in a few minutes, cold compress in hand. He carefully laid it on her side and smiled at her sigh of comfort. He watched in wonder as goose bumps formed over her body. She motioned for his hand and he helped prop her up against the headboard with pillows.

"Feel any better?" he asked while he stroked her leg.

"Yes, thank you. Are those for me?" she asked sheepishly as she spotted the flower and candy at the foot of the bed. John smiled and reached over to get them.

"Yes mam," he said as he handed them to her. She smiled and blushed as she sniffed at the flower.

"Thank you!" she said happily. She grabbed his tie and brought him closer to steal a kiss. "So?" she said as she settled back to tear into her chocolate bar.

"So?" John mocked. Sam frowned.

"Don't tease me! What did Tucker say?" she said grumpily.

"It seems Tucker was in a giving mood for once," John said simply. He smiled as her eyes got big and a small smile started to form on her lips.

"You mean we can? We can stay partners?" she asked. Her voice was almost trembling with excitement.

"Yep!" he was surprised by the force of which she leaned forward to hug him with. He laughed and hugged back, mindful of her side. He felt something wet hit his shoulder and pushed her back lightly to see tears running down her face.

"What's wrong?" he said alarmed.

"My ribs hurt!" she smiled and laughed through tears.

"Then why are you laughing?"

"Because I'm happy!" she squealed and hugged him again. John shook his head and laid a hand on his forehead.

"You're so damned weird!" he groaned. He couldn't help but laugh at the high pitched giggles that earned him.

**Ok, this update wasn't too late, right? First off, thank you very much xxxcrybabyxxx11 for the review! I hope you guys are still enjoying it thus far. I wasn't too sure on this chapter…it was a pain in the butt to write. The next chapter will be a lighter, and we'll also dip into a little of Eliot and Liv's romance! Push that subscribe button and review purdy please! (:**


	15. From Partners To Lovers

**From Partners To Lovers**

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN NUTTIN'**

"You know, you're always whining about me taking forever to get dressed, but you've been looking for something to wear for twenty minutes now!" Liv said. She was watching in amusement as Elliot rummaged through his clothes. They were meeting Sam and John for drinks in an hour to celebrate Sam's full recovery.

"Liv," he sighed as he turned around, "I'm getting fat," he said it with so much anguish in his voice, that Liv couldn't help but laugh. She looked down his toned chest to his stomach. He had gained a little weight, but he was anything but fat.

"You're not fat, Elliot," she said through a chuckle. Elliot frowned and looked in the mirror attached to the closet door. He ran a hand over his bare chest and frowned deeper.

"Then why are my shirts getting so tight?" he argued while still looking at his stomach. Liv stood up and walked over to him. She reached a hand out to pat his stomach.

"Relax, El. Your body is changing because you're getting old," she said with a teasing smile. Elliot grabbed her hand off his stomach and placed it on his shoulder. Liv's other hand moved around his neck, while Elliot's enveloped her waist.

"Great, so not only am I getting fat, I'm old too," he mumbled. Liv laughed and rolled her eyes.

"That's not what I mean, and you know it!" she said playfully. Elliot continued to pout. Liv rolled her eyes and kissed him on the cheek. Elliot turned his head swiftly and caught her lips instead. Liv smiled and blushed as she wiggled out of his arms.

The both of them had begun growing exceedingly closer over the last month. Elliot had taken to stealing little kisses here and there when he could, and Liv didn't object to it. They both knew they were skirting around each other, and it was just a matter of time before the tension would come to a break. Neither was really sure what was holding them back. The divorce papers had been signed and turned in, and the first divorce court date was in a week, then Elliot would officially be a free man.

"Ya know, you look good tonight," Elliot said as he shrugged on a red button up shirt. Liv smiled and tucked her hair behind her ear.

"You think so?" she said hesitantly. She ran her hand down her sunset orange colored dress. It was short sleeved, form fitting, and ended mid-thigh. It was the shortest dress that she had ever owned, let alone had the guts to wear. She had even talked herself into wearing golden wedges. With Sam's help, Liv was slowly easing herself into more flattering, womanly clothing. Though, she still couldn't help but feel a bit ridiculous at times.

"Yeah, you're beautiful," he said softly. He smiled in amusement as she blushed and smiled down to the floor. He had made it a daily game to see just how many shades of red his partner could go. She was like a chameleon for the color.

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"John!" Sam gasped as she felt a pinch to her butt. She turned around and swatted at him. "Control yourself!" she said, not able to keep the laughter from her voice.

"Sorry, it's just, those jeans look real good on you," he said with a sigh. She laughed and wiggled her butt at him. She took a black shirt out of her closet and tossed it on and turned around. John groaned at her.

"Do you have to wear that?" he asked. Sam smiled and slipped her feet into set of black pumps.

"Why, what's wrong with it?" she asked rhetorically. John raked his eyes over the silk material, or what was there. It was a halter top that tied around her neck, and was backless. The front had a cow neck that dipped in between her breasts. "Oh, wait a second," she said. She reached behind her and undid the clasp of her bra. She then slipped out of the straps and pulled it off with ease. She sighed in comfort as she threw the discarded material onto the bed. "Much better!" she grinned.

She laughed as he gave her a mild glare. She walked over to him slowly, making sure to swing her hips. "Don't you think so?" she said as she smoothed her hands up his chest and nuzzled his neck. John happily wrapped his arms around her waist and brought her close to him. He smirked at her gasp as she felt him pressed against her stomach.

"What do you think?" he said haughtily in her ear. She looked up at him with a coy smile in place.

"Too bad we have to leave, or I'd take care of that for you," she whispered while hooking a finger on the waist band of his pants. John's eyebrows rose nearly to his hair line and his eyes widened. She had never been so forward before.

"We could always call in sick?" John suggested. He licked his lips in anticipation as she laughed huskily and rose up to her tip toes. She smiled against his cheek as she felt his hands grip her waist tighter.

"Mm, we could, couldn't we?" she agreed. He sucked in a sharp breath as she began to nibble on her ear. His left hand made its way up her shirt to rest on her bare side, while the other tangled its fingers in her hair. "Want a little more?" she whispered in his ear. All John could do was nod. He was completely awe struck. Her usual timid demeanor had vanished, and she was becoming a full-fledged vixen.

She chuckled again in the same throaty voice and whispered, "Too bad, we promised Liv and El that we'd be there!" She laughed at his stricken expression and kissed him gently.

"I hate you," he said, somewhat aggravated. He shifted his legs. The zipper of his pants was starting to cut into him and it was getting rather uncomfortable.

"No you don't, you love me!" she said happily. He was still frowning at her little game when she grabbed his hand in hers and looked down to the floor.

"Besides, if you still want to afterwards?" she suggested quietly. John's eyes immediately softened and he smiled at her gently. This was the side of Sam he was used to seeing, this vulnerable, unsure, innocent woman. Though, he couldn't complain of the new, saucier side he just got a taste of.

"Ok, but only if you're sure. No pressure, okay?" he said gently. The smile she gave him made his heart leap to his throat.

"Okay," she agreed. She kissed him sweetly and turned to grab her purse off the bed. "Oh, and John?" she said as they headed towards the door.

"Yeah?" he answered.

"You might want to do something about that before we get there," she dragged her eyes down to the tent in his pants and smiled smugly.

Damned minx.

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"Bartender!" Liv slurred as she threw her arm up in the air. The detectives had been drinking and chatting for long over an hour now, and the women were starting to get a little tipsy. The girls had decided to take shots, each claiming she could handle more than the other. Needless to say, they each had four Rambo shots and then the boys decided to quickly cut them off.

"What can I get ya?" the bartender asked as he made his way over to the girls.

"One bay breeze, and a sex on the beach for my beautiful friend here!" Liv said loudly. Sam giggled and pushed Liv on the shoulder.

"I'm not the beautiful one, you are!" she said with a high pitched laugh. Liv stuck her finger in Sam's face and wiggled it.

"Nu-uh!" she said back. Elliot and John gave each other amused looks. Elliot downed his second beer and began pouring another one. John stared at the beer pitcher longingly. He really wanted another glass, but he had already had one, and unfortunately, he was the designated driver for the night.

"Holy shit, Liv. I just had an idea!" Sam said. The bartender handed off the drinks and the girls immediately began to sip on them.

"Yeah?" Liv said between drinks.

"You know how everyone says you're a lesbian?" Sam said. Her accent had become pretty thick, and it was getting increasingly hard to understand what she was saying between it and her slurred speech.

"Yeah?" Liv said slowly, as if trying to comprehend what she was saying.

"Well, just so you know, you'd be a hot lesbian," Sam said. John snorted. What in the hell did that have anything to do with the conversation?

"You think so?" Liv said seriously. She sat her drink down on the table and frowned in thought at her friend.

"Hell yeah!" Sam said loudly with her arms raised, drink still in hand. "Shit, if you go lesbian, I would too. Then we could get married!"

Liv slapped her hand on the bar and said, "Alright, that's it. Let's do it!"

Sam turned to John, and with the most serious look he had ever seen on her face said, "I love you John, but I'm leaving you for Liv." The combined laughter of the two men drew the attention of the other patrons. Sam pouted and crossed her arms as John continued to hold his sides in laughter.

"What the fuck is so funny about that? I'm breaking up with you!" she growled. John wiped the tears from his eyes and looked at Elliot.

"It looks like we just got dumped!" John said sarcastically. Elliot chuckled and took a swig of his beer.

"You think we're kidding!" Liv accused her partner. She frowned and moved to kiss her friend beside her. Sam smiled and leaned forward.

"Whoa there!" Elliot yelled. Elliot yanked Liv back by the shoulders and John placed a hand on Sam's forehead and pulled her back. Shrill giggles erupted from the girls as they sat back up.

"D-did you see the look on their faces?" Sam said through belts of laughter.

"Priceless!" Liv agreed. The men looked at each other and sighed.

"Okay, I think it's time we start heading home," John suggested.

"Why?" Sam turned to him a frowned.

"Because I think someone's a teensy bit drunk!" he ruffled her hair and smiled at her undignified squawk.

"I am not!" she argued as she fixed her hair, "If I was drunk, I'd be naked!" She downed the rest of her drink. John raised his eyebrows. Well that was a good bit of information to know.

"You're speaking straight up hick, your speech is slurred, and you just left me for Liv. You're drunk, baby," he said amused. She pouted at him and crossed her arms childishly. John laughed and tucked a wild curl behind her ear. A spark entered her eyes then; it was the same spark that she had when she was teasing him earlier.

"Okay, fine. I'm not a lesbian. Let's go home and I'll prove it to you!" she said with a sultry smile. She leaned closer and ran a hand up his thigh. John swallowed thickly. Oh no. Nononono. How the hell was he supposed to get out of this one? He wasn't going to take advantage of her when she was drunk, but it was going to be hard as hell to say no. Especially when she licked her lips the way she was doing.

John glanced over at Elliot to see he was having problems of his own trying to get his partner to stay awake long enough to put her coat on. He turned his attention back sharply to Sam as her hand started stroking higher and higher up his thigh. He grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips to kiss her palm.

"Ready to go?" he asked. Sam nodded eagerly and put on her coat.

"Come on, Livvy, let's get you home," Elliot coaxed as he finally roused her enough to get up and walk. Liv smiled sleepily as she paused beside Sam.  
"My partner says we can't be lesbians," Liv said. Sam nodded with a grim expression.

"So does mine," she agreed. The women nodded solemnly at each other before Elliot carefully drug Liv towards the exit. Sam turned her attention back to her partner, who was slipping on his jacket and paying their end of the tab.

"So," Sam said as he slipped his hand in hers.

"So?" he asked, looking down at her. She bit her lip and pressed her chest against his arm.

"You ready for bed?" she purred. John sighed. This was going to be a long night of testing his will power.

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John groaned as he pulled on his pajama pants. Having a hard on for over two hours tended to leave a man sore, as he was finding out the hard way(no pun intended). He flopped backwards onto the bed and listened to Sam singing in the bathroom.

"Hey baby?" Sam called abruptly.

"Yeah?" he answered.

"'Mere!" she said. John smirked at her southern twang.

"What?" he asked. Her back was turned to him and her shoulders were hunched over. She was wearing one of his black button up dress shirts, much to his dismay. He loved the way her tan legs looked underneath his clothes.

"I can't get the damn toothpaste out!" she growled. John stifled a laugh at her drunken slur.

"Let me see it," his arm paused halfway through extending as she turned around. The shirt had been left unbuttoned, and was giving him a full view of the insides of her breasts. One quick move or turn and the shirt would slip off the sides of her breasts.

"Uh," he stuttered as his eyes became glued to the sight. Sam giggled and snapped her fingers in front of his face.

"Ya can play with those in a minute, do this first!" she said as she thrust the tube and her toothbrush in his face. He actually felt himself blush at that comment

He took the items from her hands and easily squirted the paste onto her toothbrush before handing it back to her. "Thank you!" she said happily. She opened her mouth and attempted to stick the brush in, only to miss and hit her chin. "Ooops!" she giggled and swiped at her chin. John bit back a laugh as he took the brush from her hand.

"Open up," he commanded. He smiled as she made an 'ahhh' sound. He managed to quickly brush her teeth and wipe off her makeup, without too much hassle from his drunken partner.

"Thank you, John-Boy," she said as he led her back to the bed room. He attempted to lay her down, but she opted for quickly pushing him down on the bed instead. He landed with a grunt and watched helplessly as his partner climbed on top of him. She leaned forward with a predatory smile on her face. Her hands were braced on his chest, and her arms blocked his view of breasts, for the shirt had slid down her shoulders and rested around her waist and elbows.

"Sam, we can't do this tonight," John said in a strained voice. Sam giggled and bit her lip. She leaned closer to his face and cocked her head to the side.

"Why not? You said we could after we got back!" she reasoned. John tried to sit up, but she pushed him roughly back down by placing her hands by either side of his head. He hissed at the pleasurable feeling of her bare breasts pressed against his own.

"Because you're drunk!" his voice was almost pleading.

"Yeah, so? I told you, I like to be naked when I'm drunk!" she said happily. She dipped her head down to suck on the pulse point on his neck. He bit back a moan and grabbed her face in his hands. He carefully brought her face back to look at him.

"I rather have you naked when you're sober!" he argued. She groaned in aggravation and sat back up, her nails raked along his chest until her hands rested on his stomach, making her arms, once again, cover her breasts. That much, John was thankful for.

"Why?" she said innocently, "Don't you want me?" she bit her lip and ground herself against him roughly, drawing a moan from his lips.

"Y-yes. I want you," he said slowly. Sam smiled victoriously and went to ground against him again. "But," he grabbed her hips tightly to stop the movement, "Not when you're drunk!" he said sternly. Sam growled and crossed her arms over her ample chest. She wiggled off his lap and sat on the bed, a full on pout graced her lips.

"You're no fun, John!" she seethed. John smirked and sat up.

"I'm tons of fun. And if you still want to continue where we left off tomorrow, I'll be more than happy to show you just how much fun I can be," he said suggestively. Sam smiled and nodded eagerly.

"Promise?" she asked.

"Promise!" he said as he carefully drug the shirt back onto her shoulders and did the first two buttons, all without looking at her breasts. He wouldn't disrespect her by taking advantage like that.

"Okay, I believe you," she said through a yawn. Her eyes started to droop. "Hey John?"

"Yeah?" he asked as he got up to turn down the blankets.

"I think I'm going to pass out now," she slurred. He looked up and caught her head just in time before it collided with the head board. He sighed and made his way to the bathroom. If he had any hope of being able to sleep, he'd have to take a cold shower.

A _very_ cold shower.

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_The first thing she came aware of was the metallic stench that could only belong to blood. She dropped Davey's medicine on the ground. A sheer panic started to run through her as she forced herself to walk around the couch further into the tiny living room. _

_ She suppressed a scream as she took in the sight of her six year old brother lying on his stomach, in a pool of his own blood. His eyes were wide open, glassed over and full of fear. She dropped helplessly to her knees beside him. _

_ She reached out to touch his face. The skin she was met with was still warm, though something was off. It's like everything beneath the surface has stopped. It was as if she could feel that his heart wasn't beating, just by the feel of his skin. _

_ A sob caught in her throat when she noticed the teddy bear clutched tightly in his hands. She shook her head repeatedly. This wasn't happening. She squeezed her eyes shut and rubbed viciously at her eyes, almost slapping. This was a dream. She had to wake up._

_ A shrill scream echoed through the quietness, and she immediately knew it belonged to her sister. "Cassandra!" she had somehow managed to find her voice to scream. She ran to her bedroom, carefully stepping over her brother. No sooner had she slammed open the door, she was grabbed and shoved against the wall. Her head hit the wall behind her rather roughly, and just for a moment her vision blurred. She shook her head to clear the dancing spots and was vaguely aware of a man holding her throat and pressing her into the wall. None of that mattered though, as she saw her sister pinned to the bed with their father leaning on top her. Something was wrong with her side, and she was bleeding rather heavily. Her face was streaked with tears and she struggled against her father as she caught sight of her sister. "Sam! I'm sorry I didn't mean to let them in, I thought-" she was cut off by a harsh slap against to her cheek. She cried out and began to cry harder._

_ "You son of a bitch! Leave her alone, take me instead!" Sam screamed at her father. She struggled against the man that held her against the wall. The laugh that came from him made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. _

_ "Not this time," he began to unbutton Cassie's shirt, smiling at his eldest daughter's violent screams of protest. "Besides, why would I want you anymore? Don't think I don't know about your new job as a whore," he said smugly. Sam growled and bit the man holding her down. The man cursed under his breath and punched her in the stomach. She bent over as much as she could in her current position and tried to remember how to breathe._

_ "And how is that any different than selling me to one of your friends for drugs?" she spat as she recovered her voice. _

_ "Because at least I knew they were clean. God only knows what kind of diseases you have now," her father said, almost cheerfully. He extracted Cassandra's bloodstained shirt and tossed it to the floor. The wound on her side looked serious. Her eyes flicked towards a broken lamp on the floor. Something went 'click' in her head. He hadn't only broken the lamp over her sister's ribs, he had stabbed her with the jagged edge. She felt rage boil up inside her as their father leaned down to kiss Cassie on the collar bone. _

_ "Stop it!" Sam hissed. Her father laughed as he began to unbutton the younger girl's pants. Cassie screamed and flailed. Her father smacked her once more, harder this time. Cassie fell silent immediately and attempted to clear her head of the dizzying after effects. Sam screamed in anger._

_ "Why are you doing this? What do you want!" she growled, somewhat more refined. The fight was draining away to sheer terror. Her father pulled off Cassie's pants and tossed them to the floor. He paused then, and tossed her a look over his shoulder. The man that was looking at her was almost unrecognizable. The once strong, ominous man had given away to nothing more than a skeleton under stretched grey skin. However, it was the eyes that scared her the most. Though his eyes had always been cold, they were now simply lifeless. Soulless. The old malice had even disappeared. It was like she was looking into the eyes of a dead man. _

_ "I don't want anything. Can't a father just drop by to say hello to his children?" the false innocence was enough to make her stomach sick. She watched in horror as he stroked Cassie's thigh and began to kiss at her neck._

_ "Please, don't do this," Sam's voice shook with barely controlled emotion as she watched her father's hand glide higher and higher up her sister's leg. Cassie was trembling with fear and the cold feeling of blood loss. _

_ He laughed once more and picked up an open switch blade from the bedside table. Sam's breathing stopped as he watched his arm lift. Time slowed as his arm came down towards her stomach._

_ "No!" Her screams seemed to echo off the walls._

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John woke to a sharp pain in his stomach. As his sleep clouded brain began to function, he realized he had just been jabbed by his partner's elbow. She was on her side, curled into him. The pale moonlight that filtered through his window allowed him to see the grimace on her face. The hand that was on his shoulder gripped tightly, to the point of pain, and she let out a small whimper. It didn't take him long to figure out she was having another nightmare.

The week following after Yates had raped her had resulted in her waking up every night. However, even then he hadn't ever seen her look so frightened before. He felt his heart actually ache as she made a sound that was like a mixture between a scream and suppressed sob. Propping up on one arm, he gently laid his free hand on her shoulder and shook it.

"No, please," she mumbled, followed by another whimper. A tear escaped the corner of her eye, and he watched as it slowly made its way over the bridge of her nose, roll down her cheek, and fall onto the pillow.

"Sam," he said as he shook her shoulder with more force.

He didn't even have time to dodge her first swing. Her fist had caught him right in the jaw, but he ignored the blow as his partner continued to push and hit at him.

"Stupid bastard, I hate you!" she screamed. She continued to scream; her words had become incoherent by her sobs.

"Sam! Open your eyes and look at me!" He yelled over her screams. Slowly, she stopped struggling and the screams toned down to quiet pleas and whimpers.

"It's just a bad dream," he said soothingly. She blinked slowly. John frowned and gently placed his hand on her cheek. Her body was trembling and she had completely soaked through her nightshirt with sweat. Her eyes were wide and frightened, still looking at whatever bad memory she had been stuck in.

"Just a dream," she repeated. Her voice broke as she took a deep breath. She repeated it again, like she was trying to convince herself that it was true. Eventually, her trembling started to subside, and it gave way to tears. She bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut, trying everything within her power to not cry. John sighed and pulled her to him. "Let it out," he whispered gently.

Not needing to be told twice, she lunged forward and buried her face into his neck. Her hands gripped his sides, almost painfully. He half expected her to sob uncontrollably, as she had when she first told him of her past, but she didn't. She was quiet, with the exception of a gasp of air or snort every now and again. He suspected she had gotten rather good at calming herself over these memories.

It didn't take long for her quiet cries to turn into sniffles as she began to relax once more. He smiled fondly at the sigh he gave as he messaged her tense shoulders. She slowly peeked up at him. The pale moonlight reflected on her face; her face was splotchy, and around her eyes was swollen. She carefully reached out to touch his sore jaw.

"I'm sorry I hit you," she said in a small voice. John took her hand and kissed each of her fingers.

"It's not like you wanted to. It's alright. Besides, you punch like a girl," he said, trying to ease the mood. She snorted and half hearteningly glared at him. In all honesty, he was lying through his teeth. His partner had one hell of a left arm, even when she was laying down.

"Still, I'm sorry," she said meekly. John answered her by kissing her on the forehead, rather than with words.

"How about you? You want to talk about it?" he asked gently. He pulled at her hips until she was settled in his lap with his arms around her.

"Not much to talk about. It was my sixteenth birthday," she said vaguely. John frowned and laid his cheek on the head. He had figured as much.

"The day you found you're brother and sister?"

"Yes."

It was one word, but it held a lot of meaning by the tone in her voice. Obviously, she didn't want to give him a play by play, so, he dropped it. "How about physically though? Not going to puke on me, are you?" he said playfully, once again trying to lighten the mood.

"Not that I know of. My head hurts a little though," she said. She rubbed her temples for emphasis. John swatted at her hands and took their place, rubbing in soothing circles.

"I'm not surprised. You were pretty out of it," he said with amusement in his tone.

"I didn't try to take my clothes off, did I?" she asked hesitantly. She knew John wouldn't let her do anything like that in public, but still. It never hurt to be reassured.

"Not in public, no," he said with a smirk. She turned her head to glare at him.

"Excuse me?" she said crisply. John chuckled and gently forced her head forwards again and continued with his actions.

"Well, for starters, you broke up with me," he placed a hand over her mouth when she started to speak, "Let me finish! You broke up with me for _Liv_. You both were pretty adamant about embracing Olivia's lesbian side. In fact, you two are were engaged, unofficially of course. Then you tried to kiss, but luckily we stopped you, though, it was a nice image- OW!" he yelped when she elbowed him in the stomach. He cleared his throat before continuing, "Well, can you blame me, I am a man after all. Anyway, once Elliot and I had talked you both out of it, you two broke up. Then we came home and you tried to seduce me," he laughed as she twisted in his arms to face him, an appalled look fixed on her face.

"What!" she squeaked. She had then begun to notice her bra- or _lack _of, and the amount of buttons left undone on her shirt. She gave him another horrified look before covering her face with her hands. He didn't need light to know she was blushing. "Dear God, I'm so sorry!" she said shyly between her fingers. John chuckled as he tried to pry her hands loose.

"It's okay. In case you're wondering, I didn't see anything," he reassured. Her hands dropped to only reveal her eyes.

"Really?" she asked skeptically.

"Really."

"How did you get me to stop? Did I pass out?"

"No," he smiled mischievously, "I told you once you were sober you could have me anytime, anywhere, anyway," he said in a smug manner. Sam raised her eyebrows and dropped her hands onto her lap.

"Oh," she said a little breathlessly. She bit her lip and looked back up at him. The fear had left her eyes now, and it was replaced by a deeper looked, tinged with a bit of hesitancy.

"Well, I'm sober now," she said, barely audible. John smiled and ran a finger from her jaw down to the top of her breast. He noticed the audible hitch in her breath. He reached around her and turned on the lamp on the bedside table. Squinting as he backed up, he was surprised to see her looking away, almost ashamed.

"You okay? We don't have to do this," he said quietly. He placed a finger on her chin and lifted her face to his.

"Yeah, I know. I want to, but, do you think we can turn the light back of?" she bit her lip. John frowned.

"Why?" he asked, though he already knew the answer.

"I just, I mean. I don't want you to see," she trailed off, clearly too confused and ashamed to continue. He knew she was ashamed of her scars. He had known every time she undressed. She'd try to hide herself with her arms. She had always tensed up when he kissed one, or rubbed along one as well. Not to mention, she was insecure of her body, even though every man in the world would tell her she had _nothing_ wrong in that department.

"Samantha Lydia Jones Cragen," he said sternly, so sternly, that she immediately gave him her direct attention. "If you think for one second that you are anything from beautiful, you're poorly mistaken. And as for your scars, I don't care about them. They certainly don't make you ugly, everyone has them," he drove his point home by taking her hand and laying it on the shallow scar on his side, where he was once shot back in Baltimore. She rubbed her fingers over it gently.

"I love you," he said more calmly. She raised her eyes to look at him before giving him a tiny smile.

"I love you too," she whispered. John held her eyes for a moment longer before slowly bringing his lips to her own. The kiss was slow, but deep. When they each parted for breath, John took to burying his hand in her wild curls. Gently, he pulled her head back to reveal her throat. The gasps and whimpers combined with the squirming she was doing on his lap were driving him crazy.

"Sam," he was a little surprised at the roughness of his voice. He couldn't remember ever wanting someone this badly before. She hummed her reply into his mouth as his fingers nervously reached up and latched around the button of her shirt. He pulled back slowly, and looked her in the eyes. He saw a little hesitation, but ultimately she nodded slightly and brought her mouth back to his. He quickly undid the buttons and slid the shirt off her shoulders and tossed it to the floor. He sucked in a deep breath as he finally got to see the last of her tattoos.

It was a shooting star. The star was black, and sat just above her nipple, while the tail of it was a mix between black and pink, curving around all the way to the bottom of her nipple. He looked up and gave her an amused look.

"Don't ask; I lost a bet with Fin," she scowled at the memory, but only for a moment, for John had taken to tracing the tattoo with his tongue. With everything said, though it was an odd placement for a tattoo, it seemed to just work for her. And he had to admit, he defiantly liked it.

He chuckled as she almost purred underneath his hands and mouth.

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Hours later, John laid awake, listening to the soft breathing his lover made beside him. Her naked body was pressed tightly against his, and even now, his body was reacting. He traced a finger down her cheek and couldn't suppress the smile that came over his face she sighed his name and wiggled closer into his side.

Their love making had been unlike anything he'd ever experienced, even with Gwen. It had been slow, and deep. He'd never connected on someone on such a level like that. He watched as his partner shifted and rolled over, dragging his arm with her. He was more than happy to oblige, coming up behind her to spoon her tightly. He buried his face in her curls and smiled again as he felt her wiggle backwards. She chuckled quietly as she ground herself against him.

"Ready to go again? I mean, if you ain't too tired, Mister Munch," she asked in a throaty whisper. John rolled her back and kissed her soundly.

"I think I can manage, Missus Munch," he teased.

John chuckled, and thought to himself, once again, that he liked the sound of that.

**I'll be straight up with you guys, this story is KILLING ME. I really wanted to give you an amazing romance scene between the two, but just couldn't get it to come out right! Everything felt so strained. So, again, I apologize! Anyway, I do believe I may end this story here, as I have an AMAZING idea for a Harry Potter Fanfiction that I'm simply dying to write. I hope you guys have enjoyed my story, and if you like I will add ONE more chapter, as a prologue if you will, but that is ENTIRELY up to you. I'll do it, according to the reviews I get. It'll be a nice little end to it, if you'd like (: Thanks so much to all who have read this and helped me along the way! I love you guys!**


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